


Legally Yours

by Phylwannabe



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire
Genre: Careers; Romance; Angst; Feels; Humor; Very Slow Burn, F/M, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24012127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phylwannabe/pseuds/Phylwannabe
Summary: Jon Snow has just graduated with honors from law school and has come home to Winterfell to open up his law practice.  Starting a business is not easy but Jon is beyond determined to succeed.  The only thing he wants more than success in his law practice is to get his longtime crush, Sansa Stark, to notice him.  But nothing worth having comes easy and Jon will have to choose, at least initially, between love and duty.  Slow burn, romance and dating first, friends before lovers. There will be some moments when you will want to smack heads together,  but the ultimate goal is Jonsa.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 44
Kudos: 90





	1. Day One - The Sign

Legally Yours

Chapter One - The Sign

It was 10:00 o’clock on the first Monday morning in October. Jon Snow stood, hands on his hips, in the middle of Torrhen Avenue. Morning traffic was still heavy in the bustling Northern capital of Winterfell. Ignoring the commotion as cars narrowly dodged around him, horns blaring, more than one driver cursing each and every one of his misbegotten ancestors, Jon’s attention was focused entirely upon the newly installed sign which hung above a modest and rather nondescript storefront office.

Snow Law Office

Jon Snow, Attorney At Law

General Practice of Law

New Clients Accepted

_Consultations by Appointment_

Jon was beaming. The sign was a work of art – dark wood, gold lettering, supported by a heavy bronze chain – and all courtesy, free gratis, of Rayder Wood Working. It screamed wealth and prestige, two commodities in short supply for Jon at present. Both were objectives which definitely topped his life achievement bucket list.

He had offered to pay his pal when he brought the sign by earlier that morning, but Mance had merely shook his grizzled head, "You don’t have the money and we both know it. Besides, I owe you one...or two...or three." Climbing down from the ladder after completing the installation, Mance had clapped the younger man on the shoulder. "Consider this a down payment, Snow. I intend to pay you in full for what you did for me. I don’t grovel before those damned Lannisters, but just like them, I _do_ pay my debts."

Jon shook his head, "Mance, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times. I can’t charge you for advice I gave you when I wasn’t a licensed attorney. That would be unethical."

Mance brushed Jon’s comments off with a wave of his hand. "That don’t make no matter to me. You caught that blasted loan officer at Lion’s Bank dead to rights when you went through all the legal mumbo jumbo he stuck in my mortgage. You gave me ammunition to go to the bank and save my home. Where would Dalla and I be if you hadn’t taken the time to look that over for me? I owe you, Jon, and I remember my friends. Even if I can’t give you cash right now, I have made you the finest office sign in all of Winterfell. Next Dalla and I can have you over Friday night for dinner. What do you say?"

Jon laughed and raised his hands in mock surrender. "OK, I give up! Thanks for the sign. It looks terrific, and I _absolutely_ will be there Friday night for...let me guess...Dalla’s....lasagna? Am I right?"

Mance laughed as he picked up his took box and shouldered the ladder. "Yep, Dalla’s a creature of habit and her lasagna _is_ the best. Six o’clock sound good?"

"Sounds great," Jon nodded, "Mance, don’t forget to tell people that I’ve hung out my shingle."

Mance tossed his tools in the back of his pickup and waved at Jon as he got in the cab, "Absolutely! Any friend of mine who needs a lawyer will hear your name, Jon Snow".

**************************************

Jon’s secretary knocked on his office door at noon. "I’m going to run home for lunch and to check on the kids. Do you want me to pick up a sandwich from the Corner Store for you on my way back?"

Jon looked up from arranging, for at least the fiftieth time, the graduation gift from his Uncle Aemon, a classic pen and pencil set. He leaned back in his chair, "Thanks, Gill, but I think I’ll go out. May walk by the courthouse and see if anything exciting is going on." Gilly Tarly nodded cheerfully and a moment later Jon heard the bell on the front door ring as she exited the reception area. Jon sighed and thought _"Here I am, all dressed up to practice law, but no clients to represent."_ He stood, stretching, feeling the tension in his back loosen as he looked around his new office.

Considering what she had to work with, Gilly had made a valiant effort toward creating an imposing ambiance. His desk was old, purchased on the cheap at an estate auction. Once polished, it definitely gave Jon’s office a certain grandeur. Two wooden file cabinets, also bought for pennies on the dollar, sat to the side, both entirely empty just now. Gilly had deposited a green plant of some sort on top of each one. A large painting of The Wall was displayed between the two front windows of his office while various other Northern scenes were hung on the other walls. His absolute pride and joy was an antique lawyer’s book case with glass fronts and brass handles which housed all of his law school textbooks plus a brand new copy of NRS - Northern Revised Statutes. On one corner of his desk were photographs of his mother and of Ghost, his wolf hybrid. Behind his chair, tastefully framed and arranged in an artful manner were the paper evidences of his life accomplishments to date: his high school diploma from Winterfell High; his honorable discharge from the Night’s Watch with special commendation for service as a Captain in the Watch’s elite Ranger force; his undergraduate diploma from White Harbour University _magna cum laude_ ; his diploma from Dorne University School of Law _summa cum laude_ , and last, but certainly not least, his brand new license to practice law, signed by no less than the Honorable Stannis Baratheon, Chief Justice of the Northern Supreme Court.

_The Wall wasn’t built in a day, Jon,_ he thought to himself. _I just have to be patient and do the best I can for every client that walks through the door. That’s the tried and true way to build a law practice._ Jon whipped his gray suit coat off of the coat rack and moved through the reception area to the front door. After locking up, he once again glanced up at the sign over his office. Jon couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he took off down the street, jacket hooked in two fingers and slung over his shoulder, toward the Winterfell Municipal Complex.

*******************************************

During his last year of law school Jon had clerked for the prestigious firm of Martell and Martell. Oberyn Martell had offered him a position with the firm pending bar exam results. Jon had been appreciative of the offer and had taken some time to consider it before declining. He knew that he could quickly realize a six figure income if he stayed in Dorne, and that was not an insignificant consideration for someone as financially strapped as Jon. Yet, if he was honest, and Jon was always honest with himself, Jon knew he would eventually make the decision to go home – back to the North. It was the only place where he felt he truly belonged. The only real struggle for Jon in making that decision had been cutting ties with the lovely Tyene Martell, Oberyn’s youngest daughter.

Always an over achiever, Jon was not only juggling classes and his clerking duties, but at the urging of Arthur Dayne, his Constitutional law professor, he was also writing a treatise on illegal search and seizures for the law school journal, _Dornish Notes._ Tyene had breezed into his life during a particularly stressful week. She had found him in his cubicle at the office late one Saturday evening, sound asleep and softly snoring, hunched over his desk with his head pillowed in his arms. Tyene had been there to pick up files which, somehow, never got delivered to her father that night. Instead Tyene had woken Jon and bullied him into getting into her sports car. After stopping for burgers, Tyene had taken him to her apartment and promptly made Jon forget everything but her name, which he utilized in breathy moans over and over that eventful evening.

Jon and Tyene were lovers who weren’t exactly _in love_ with each other; Jon supposed that they were the classic example of friends with benefits. Nevertheless, on the evening Jon intended to tell Tyene he would be leaving, he felt like a horde of poisonous sand snakes were fighting in his stomach. He cooked Tyene dinner; afterwards, sitting next to her on the couch in his tiny apartment, Jon had started to speak, but hesitated, still not sure how to break the news to her. Then all rational thought flew when Tyene suddenly reached across the small space between them and molded her lips to his. After a mind blowing kiss, she had pulled back and looked him directly in the eye.

"You’ve become quite a good lover, Jon Snow," she whispered. "A quick study, I must say. Though as every aspiring lawyer knows, you have to keep practicing". Rising gracefully to her bare feet, she had slowly drawn him flush up against her body. Without further words, she had taken his hand in hers and led him to the bedroom. Jon woke up the next morning, wearing nothing but a tangle of bed sheets, only to find Tyene gone and a note on his night stand:

"Congratulations, Jon! You passed with flying colors. Now follow your heart

and go home! I will _never_ forget my star pupil. Fondly, _Tyene_

P. S. It would never have worked for us, sweet boy. Not only do you snore, but sometimes you _even_ drool in your sleep.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

So Jon had moved home after graduation, taking up residence once again in the small bedroom in his Mom’s modest home on Weir Avenue in Winterfell. He studied non-stop for the July 1 bar exam. After surviving the three day exam, and while waiting an agonizing two months for the results, he had worked stocking shelves at a local book store. Lugging crates of heavy tomes by Gabaldon, King, and Martin around in the store’s basement warehouse hadn’t exactly been intellectually stimulating, but it had been good exercise and it had helped to keep his mind from the awful possibility that he might actually fail. One side benefit of working at the store was the fact that the bookstore owner had let him buy books at a deep discount. Jon had literally devoured "How to Start a Law Practice Without Missing a Meal" and fully intended to follow its practical advice if given half a chance.

On September 1 he had come home to find an official looking envelope laying on the kitchen table. His mom, Lyanna, who worked as a dental assistant for Dr. Seaworth, had arrived home before him. She turned from the sink and wiped her hands on a towel, then pressed them together and nodded expectantly. Taking a deep breath, Jon had torn open the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of elegant bond paper. For a long moment his eyes scanned the letter without speaking. "Jon", his mother worriedly asked, "it isn’t bad news, is it?"

Jon swallowed hard, words still failing him, and handed the paper over to Lyanna. Cautiously, she read aloud,

_Dear Mr. Snow:_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have passed the exam necessary for admittance to the practice of law in Westeros. You will kindly present yourself on August 15 before Chief Justice Baratheon and the full panel of the Northern Supreme Court in order to be sworn in as a member of the bar. Congratulations on your achievement!_

"Son, you did it!" Laughing and crying at the same time, Lyanna hugged him as he whirled her around the tiny kitchen. "I am so proud of you!" Jon fiercely hugged his mother and swore to himself that one day he would have enough money to insure that Lyanna would never again want for anything.

**********************************

Five minutes after leaving his office, Jon entered the Winterfell Courthouse. The building took up an entire city block, giant direwolf statutes flanking either side of the imposing edifice. The words _"Do Justice. Love Mercy. Walk Humbly,"_ were carved above the entrance. Jon nodded to Grenn who was on bailiff duty at the security desk, "How are things?" Jon greeted his old friend from the Night’s Watch days, "Alys still getting sick in the mornings?" His friend shook his head. "Nope, I think she is finally getting over the morning sickness, but she still can’t stand the smell of coffee before noon." Pointing to a small styrofoam cup sitting by the security screen, Grenn shrugged, "So I gotta get used to the swill I can get in the machine downstairs for right now." Jon nodded in sympathy, making a mental note to bring Grenn a coffee from Starbucks the next day. He moved through the security screen, picking up his keys and loose change, and stuffing them back into his pants pocket.

"Hey, Jon, I’ve been putting your business cards out on the table during motion hour," Grenn confided. Jon grinned and pumped fists with Grenn. "Thanks, Buddy! I appreciate that." Jon moved toward the elevator, amending his "to do" list to add providing Grenn _daily_ Starbucks for the next few weeks.

Jon put his suit coat on before entering the Court Clerk’s office. While he wasn’t sure that clothes actually made the man, it didn’t pay to walk around looking like a slob either. _Dress to Impress_ his Mother had always admonished him. He walked up to the glass window that separated the staff from the public. An attractive brunette looked up and, spying Jon, smiled brightly and waved him through the doors. Jon heard the security lock release and he entered.

Jeyne Westerling had been a year or so behind him in high school and, truth be told, they hadn’t exactly run in the same circles. She was part of the popular crowd headed by Robb and Sansa, the golden Stark siblings. For his part, Jon had been a quiet sort, studious, bespectacled, on the scrawny side, and certainly without the easy money that all the kids who followed the Starklings seem to have in abundance. His decision to enlist in the Night’s Watch after high school had terrified Jon as much as it had his mother, but he convinced himself he could stand anything for two years. Then once discharged from service, he would be able to afford college with the money the government provided to veterans.

To Jon’s surprise he excelled at the rigorous training program conducted at Castle Black. At the end of basic, Jon was selected for the elite Ranger’s unit, gaining certifications in hand to hand combat as well as tactical weapons. As a captain he had led several raids against terrorist cells in the isolated Frost Fangs regions and had been awarded numerous commendations for bravery. The Lord Commander, Jeor Mormont, had encouraged him to stay on past his enlistment term, and had even arranged for him to take online classes during his time in service. When Jon finally mustered out after being wounded in a firefight, The Old Man had personally written a letter of recommendation for him to the Dean at White Harbour. Jon still kept up a regular correspondence with the Mormont and fully intended to visit his mentor at the wall as soon as he could afford to take a vacation.

One of the lasting effects Jon had realized from his time in the Watch was a difference in his appearance. He was certainly no longer the scrawny bean pole he had been in high school. Jon had developed an impressive physique in the military and he kept it afterwards by working out at the gym during college and law school. Jeyne knew nothing about Jon’s experiences at the Wall, but it was clear that she had certainly taken note of those changes since she had last seen him when they graduated almost ten years before. While he was setting up his office, Jon had visited the clerk’s office several times. On each occasion, Jeyne had practically shoved the other clerks out of the way in order to, as she put it to Jon, "take good care of her old classmate."

Jon sighed as he once again prepared himself for the energetic onslaught that was Jeyne. He remembered that he was wearing glasses today and wistfully hoped that his wire rims would somehow deter Jeyne’s enthusiasm. No such luck. Jeyne had made it around the row of desks clocking a speed that a marathoner would envy, reaching Jon’s side just as a sharp whistle from the back pierced the relative quiet of the office.

Jeyne stopped her approach, halting like a deer in a spotlight. Jon turned toward the sound, smiling as he realized its source. "Jon Snow, back here right now!" came a familiar voice. Jon sent an apologetic shrug to the clearly disappointed Jeyne and obediently loped to the back. There, holding court amidst a towering paper tower of court documents from various decades was the head clerk, Nan Frey. "Sit down, I’ve been holding a sandwich with your name on it." Jon nodded and perched on the edge of the one chair that wasn’t entirely covered with paperwork. Taking the offered sandwich in hand, Jon took a bite, confirming his suspicion that it contained egg salad. Not his favorite, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. "Mmmm," Jon commented as he took a second bite.

His white haired host handed him a grape soda. "Here, you need something to wash that down. If I’ve told Hodor once, I’ve told him twenty times to go light on the paprika. The dolt always nods at me, and then pours an entire tin of the stuff in the bowl." "Iss good," Jon confirmed as he took another swipe of the sandwich. Nan looked at Jon fondly, "You’re a good boy to say so. But bad is bad and being polite won’t change that fact".

Nan was barely five foot. Jon, not tall himself, absolutely towered over her. She had phone books from various decades stacked under her chair which she used as a footstool on which she rested swollen feet clad in pink fluffy house shoes. She had been clerk since before anyone could remember. She controlled the courthouse. Most judges and every lawyer in the circuit trembled in fear when they came under Old Nan’s scrutiny. Nan knew every voter, not only in Winterfell proper, but also for miles around.

Jon had first made Nan’s acquaintance when he had worked for Janos Slynt at his used car dealership one summer. Jon’s job was to bring in the dealer paperwork so that the clerk could register titles to the new owner. It hadn’t taken long for Jon to realize that Slynt was routinely passing along dealer fees to his customers. After several weeks of biting his tongue and struggling with his conscience, Jon had mentioned it to Nan. Turns out the old lady had known all along but had just been waiting for Jon to mention it. Nan told him Slynt regularly used high school kids desperate for a job to do his dirty work, but most wouldn’t buck the shady car dealer. Jon won a special place in Nan’s heart when he concocted a scheme to inform the unsuspecting buyers that they were being cheated. No less than fifty customers had descended en masse at the dealership demanding refunds. Nan, of course, had provided the customers with refund calculations. Once Jon was fired by an irate Slynt, Nan had hired him for the rest of the summer.

The little lady now turned from her cluttered desk where she had been pecking at an ancient Smith Corona (no fancy computer for Nan) and gave Jon a once over. "Don’t you look nice today. Got any clients yet?"

Jon ducked his head and smiled. Only Nan could routinely make him blush. "Miss Nan, I am pounding the pavement even as we speak."

Nan leaned forward and handed him a court docket with several names highlighted. "Here’s today’s jail docket. I have highlighted the ones who will have family there to bail them out and whose kin can actually afford to pay a retainer for good legal counsel. Better get yourself up to the courtroom by 1:00 and be sure to have plenty of business cards with you."

Jon stood and leaned over to buss the little woman on the cheek. "Thanks, Nan. You’re the best." It was Nan’s turn to blush. "Go on with you now and come back for lunch next week. Hodor’s cornered the market on liverloaf." Jon turned to go, glancing to find an escape route that wouldn’t involve passing Jeyne Westerling. He stopped in his tracks, mind suddenly wiped clear of coherent thought.

There, at the window, talking to Jeyne, was the living embodiment of all of his teenage dreams. Tall (couldn’t see her legs, but he knew for a fact they were a mile long), long shimmering red hair, even redder lips, and eyes the color of summer sky. The most beautiful girl, no make that a woman now, Jon had ever known. He stood there, mouth agape, until the Vision completed her business and turned to leave. Even then Jon remained rooted to the spot until Nan poked him on the arm. "Don’t go looking at things you can’t afford yet, Jonny. That one there is high maintenance. Why, just those little sling backs she was wearing would cost more than you’ll likely make in a month."

Jon shook himself and moved to the exit. Pausing he looked back at his oldest and best friend in the courthouse. Squaring his shoulders he gave Nan a determined look. "Maybe so, but one day soon, Sansa Stark will take notice of me. That’s a promise, Nan."


	2. The Barristers Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon doesn't plan on attending the annual Barristers Ball at Winterfell Castle but Sansa will be there.  
> Jon changes his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had intended Chapter Two to be all about Jon representing Tormund Giantsbane in a case, a matter that will (unfortunately for Jon) involve Sansa as well. But then I realized that it is the end of October, the annual Barristers Ball is coming up, Sansa will be there... and Jon decides to go even though he doesn't dance....  
> Oh, by the way, it's a costume party and the theme is Musicals.  
> Bonus points if you figure out Jon and Sansa's favorite musical before Sansa makes her first appearance in the story. Extra bonus points if you find the Kit reference/quote in the chapter.

Chapter 2

Barristers Ball

It was 6:00 o’clock on the last Friday in October and Jon Snow was calling it a day for the week. Gilly had left earlier to pick up her little boys, Sam and Dickon, from day care. Her husband, Sam, was a chiropractor who kept late hours on Friday in order to accommodate his working patients. Jon didn’t mind because it gave him some quiet time to organize the files he would need to take to Court on Monday. While Jon generally worked in the office on Sunday afternoons, Ghost slumbering peacefully beside him and a rugby game on in the background, this weekend was likely going to mess with his normal routine so Jon wanted to leave his cases in good order before he left. With Nan’s help and advice, his practice had picked up, and he was more than holding his own when he appeared in court with his new clients. Jon intended to keep it that way but to do so, he had to put in the time to be prepared.

Exiting his office, Jon walked to the side of the building and climbed the stairs to his second floor apartment. When he had been looking for an office to rent, the biggest selling point in his decision to finally sign a lease for 123A Torrhen Avenue was the fact that he could also rent the upstairs apartment for next to nothing,.. basically two for one. Jon loved his mom, but he _was_ almost thirty years old and, after a few months back home, he knew that they both needed their space. Besides Jon had figured out that during his time in Dorne, his Mom had not exactly been alone. From comments his mother had made from time to time since he came home, Jon had surmised that her widowed boss, Dr. Seaworth, regularly came for supper and sometimes stayed a while longer. Jon had felt it his duty as a good son to muster at least some indignation over his mother’s extracurricular activities, but he found himself incapable of such. After all, Lyanna was a big girl, not to mention that Jon also personally liked Davos a lot. From what he could tell, the dentist was genuinely fond of his mother and as long as she was treated well, Jon had no real complaints.

Jon opened the door and braced himself for Ghost’s welcome. As soon as the key turned in the lock, Ghost bounded across the kitchen floor and leaped, placing his huge paws on Jon’s shoulders and giving him a wet doggy kiss. "Hey, buddy," Jon greeted him as he walked Ghost backwards into the room. "Ready for your walk?" Ghost wagged his tail enthusiastically and Jon grabbed the leash hanging from the nail by the door. "OK, but we have to make it quick".

Jon took Ghost for a brisk walk around the block and then let him back in the apartment. After making sure Ghost had food and water, he bounded down the stairs and climbed into his Jeep. Although Friday night usually involved dinner with Mance and Dalla, Jon had begged off this evening because he was going to pick up his outfit for the next evening.

Jon knew all about the Barristers Ball. The annual event was held in the Great Hall of Winterfell Castle and was sponsored by Stark and Stark, PLLC. The law firm was the largest in the North and its 20 or so lawyers collectively oozed talent and prestige. While the Starks hadn’t resided in the castle itself for over 80 years, the family still controlled the foundation that managed the property. Throughout the year, the venue was highly sought after for charitable events, weddings, and anniversary parties, but the last Saturday in October was always dedicated to the Barristers Ball, a masked costume party that drew droves of lawyers, judges, and court officials alike from far and near. No doubt about it, the Ball was _THE_ social event of the year.

Two weeks before the big date, during their regular Monday desktop lunch, Old Nan asked Jon if he had picked out his costume for the shindig. The theme this year was "Musicals" and the clerk’s office had already decided to go as various characters from _The Wizard of Oz_. Jayne, predictably, was going as Dorothy and Nan had rather grumpily agreed to be a Munchkin. "It was either that, or a Flying Monkey," she groused to Jon.

Jon had no plans to attend and had plenty of excuses which he ticked off, one by one, on his fingers. _One_ , he didn’t dance. _Two_ , he didn’t like big society gatherings, finding them pretentious and boring. _Three_ , he didn’t dance. _Four_ , he wasn’t big on either champagne or the bad liquor generally served at these types of event. _Five_ , he didn’t dance. _Six_ , he didn’t have a date and he didn’t want to lead Jeyne on. _Seven_...

Nan interrupted his rolling disclaimer. "Let me guess, You _don’t_ dance. None of that matters, Jon. What matters is that _She_ will be there."

Her words hit Jon in the solar plexus. He blinked, swallowed hard, and squinted at Nan like he had no idea whatsoever what she was talking about. Nan wasn’t buying his act and she grabbed his shirt sleeve, pulling him down to her diminutive level. Lowering her voice, she confided, "Sansa Stark _will_ be there. I know you are interested in her. And I also know what costume she has selected. You can make _quite_ an impression if you do this right."

Nan whispered Sansa’s choice in his ear, and Jon sat down heavily, hands on his knees. After a few seconds, he began grinning like a loon. If Nan was right about Sansa’s costume, Jon knew he _had_ to attend the Barrister’s Ball. He also knew exactly the costume to wear in order to make Sansa Stark take notice. Jon would go to the ball and convince Sansa that he was her perfect partner for the evening. Swearing Nan to absolute secrecy, he began planning in earnest.

Saturday evening arrived. After dropping Ghost off at Sam and Gilly’s house, where his canine friend would enjoy tussling with the Tarly toddlers until bedtime, Jon drove back to his apartment and took a leisurely shower. The ball started at 8:00, but he planned to arrive fashionably late. A dramatic appearance was essential to his plan. To get in the mood for the evening and to calm his nerves, Jon played his favorite movie soundtrack on his old stereo while air conducting the more soaring moments of the score as he laid his bits of costume on the bed.

Jon stood before the bathroom and picked up his razor. He looked at himself and sighed. If he was truly going to sell the character he had chosen, the beard _had_ to go. He puffed his cheeks, blew the collected air out, and started lathering his face with shaving cream. Some minutes later, he scrutinized the face looking back at him. _I look like a tired child,_ Jon thought ruefully. He had worn a beard for so long that he hardly recognized himself without one. But, it would grow back and, at least for tonight, the mask would add sophistication.

Jon dressed in his costume. He had gone to the costume shop in the mall on a weekday as he thought it was unlikely anyone whom he knew from court would be there at that time. Jon had selected the details of his costume carefully, opting, as the sales lady said, for the "real deal", not a cheap plastic facsimile. Yes, he certainly planned to _Dress to Impress_ at the ball.

Jon looked in the mirror one last time. The figure staring back at him wore black dress boots with a low heel and which were polished to a high gloss. A white shirt, opened at the neck and with billowing sleeves, was tucked into well fitted black leather pants. Using gel, he had slicked his dark curls flat against his head and had fastened it back with a black silk ribbon that dangled over his collar. Over it all he had draped a black floor length cape with red lining. On his head, perched at a dashing angle, was a black hat of the sort an 18th century opera impressario might have worn. For the final touch Jon carefully picked up the remaining piece of his costume, a white mask, and fitted it over the left side of his face. He nodded in satisfaction...at last he was ready for the Ball.

*********************************************

Sansa Stark surveyed the Great Hall of Winterfell Castle and smiled in approval. Her mother, with Sansa’s help, had once again transformed the somewhat dark and drafty room into a glowing, shimmering work of art. Twinkling white lights reflected off every surface. Hundreds of mirrors hung especially for the occasion added to the effect. White pumpkins expertly carved by a local master craftsman flickered everywhere. A crackling fire burned in the huge fireplace. Servers in elegant attire wove through the crowd with trays of tasty hors d’oeuvres while the open bar was doing a brisk business. A band, no Sansa amended, _an orchestra_ , played selections from popular musicals, of both the theatrical and movie variety, and many of the guests had started moving onto the dance floor. The _coup de grace_ was a huge crystal chandelier suspended from the ceiling in the very center of the dance floor. The impressive fixture had been chosen specifically by Sansa and was an homage to her favorite musical.

Sansa had suggested this year’s theme. Judging from the number of guests who had actually come in costume, the choice was a resounding success. As hosts, the Starks, were all suitably decked out: Ned and Catelyn had come as Professor Harold Hill and Marion from _The Music Man_ and had started the dancing off with a sweet waltz to "Till There Was You". Her big brother, Robb, and his wife, Talisa, were oh so adorable as Curly and Laurie from _Oklahoma_ although Sansa was certain that Laurie hadn’t sported a visible baby bump in the play’s finale. Even Arya had gotten in the spirit, coming as the title character from _Annie Get Your Gun_ ; her boyfriend, Gendry, made a fine looking Buffalo Bill. Arya was having the time of her life pointing her sharp shooters at all the guests. Sansa noticed with secret delight that Arya was currently focusing her mischief toward Aunt Lysa and her sleazy second husband, Petyr Baelish. Sansa couldn’t imagine what had possessed Lysa and Petyr to come as Danny and Sandy from _Grease_ as both were entirely too old to pull that off. Sansa was certain Nan’s office would definitely win the group prize even as she made a mental note to slip by the punch bowl later to insure that Nan wasn’t adding grape soda to the recipe. Nan made a formidable Munchkin!

Sansa moved gracefully around the fringes of the great hall, nodding to the guests from time to time. During her time in Kings Landing, she had truly missed this event. Now barely ten months back home, she had thrown herself into the planning and, of course, into the creation of her costume. Although most of the guests were easily recognizable, Sansa had opted to wear a mask. She intended to wait to fully reveal her identity at midnight when the judging would take place and the coveted Barrister Ball awards would be announced. Sansa glanced at a mirror and smiled as the reflection of Christine Daae from _Phantom of the Opera_ looked back at her.

Sansa had made the costume herself. The white ball gown was gorgeous, a perfect duplication of the one Christine had worn on stage during her first performance with the _Opera Populaire_. Hundreds of hand sewn miniature pearls covered the bodice and the full skirt of the dress, causing it to shimmer as she moved. Her bare arms shone with powdered glitter while sparkling ballet slippers adorned her feet. Her crowning achievement that evening was her hair. To perfect her look, Sansa had dyed her red hair a soft dark brown just for the occasion and then she had spent hours that afternoon painstakingly curling her locks into Christine’s long, curling waves. When her transformation was complete, even Catelyn had failed to immediately recognize Sansa and her Mother was one of the few people who knew that Sansa had planned to arrive at the ball as the heroine from her favorite musical.

Sansa’s only regret was her _date_ for the evening. Ned had asked her to invite Harry Hardyng as her escort. Harry was a young attorney who had just joined the firm after practicing tax law in Kings Landing for several years. Like his legal forte, Harry was dry as dirt, but Sansa loved her father and had agreed to invite Harry so as not to disappoint Ned. Sansa had selected Harry’s costume to compliment hers so that Harry was suitably decked in evening clothes, making an impressive appearance as the Viscount Raoul de Ghagny, the character from _Phantom_ who was Christine’s boyhood friend and eventually became her husband. Harry was tall enough for the part and he certainly looked handsome in his evening clothes, causing several feminine eyes in the crowd to glance his way. But after asking if she would like some punch, "No, thank you, not right now" and then inquiring if Sansa wanted to dance, Harry had left her and headed to the group of legal eagles congregated around the open bar, where he was no doubt holding forth on some obscure section of the Northern tax code. Sansa absolutely _loved_ to dance but she had politely declined Harry’s invitation because the music playing at the time was "All that Jazz" and, _by all the seven gods,_ she was in a ballgown! _Talk about destroying her mystique!_

Sansa’s musings were interrupted as the first notes of "Shall We Dance" from _The King and I_ flowed over the crowd. Professor Varys suddenly appeared, bald head gleaming, and impressively costumed, bare chest and all, as the King of Siam. Sansa giggled as he extended his hand and he swept her off in an exuberant waltz.

"Christine, you look beautiful tonight," Varys complimented, "or should I rather say...Sansa?" His lovely partner pouted: "I suppose my costume isn’t all that impressive, if you’ve already recognized me, Vary. And it’s not even near midnight yet." Varys spun them to the very center of the floor doing a spot-on imitation of Yul Brenner with his energetic steps. 

"Sansa, love, I’ve known you since you were a tadpole and don’t forget who introduced you to musical theater. I will never forget the first time you saw a production of _Phantom_ at Kings Gallery. You were spellbound that evening, just as you are _spellbinding_ tonight. I would have been shocked if you had come to the ball as anyone other than Christine. I am only surprised that you didn’t find a suitable Phantom to escort you instead of settling for Mr. CPA over there."

Sansa giggled. "Harry isn’t all that bad, Vary, just a bit dull. But he’s a _nice_ fellow."

Varys huffed, "After all you experienced in Kings Landing, I suppose _nice_ is a safe choice." As the song ended and applause scattered through the crowd, Varys took her arm to lead her off the dance floor. "Take it from a fellow hopeless romantic, my dear. Don’t settle for less than you deserve, Sansa. You of all people deserve all the romance your heart can hold. You deserve music, and flowers, and candy, and exotic places, and sweetness, and you deserve.... _that!"_

Rolling her eyes at Vary’s theatrics, Sansa turned toward the entrance to the Great Hall, looking in the direction her friend was pointing. It took her a moment to register what she was seeing but then Sansa audibly gasped, gripping her friend’s arm in a death vise. Standing in the entrance, clad all in black and wearing a white mask as if he was born to do so, was Sansa’s dream date, Sansa’s _Phantom._

As Varys avidly nodded in agreement, Sansa drew her arm away and slowly began to circle the Great Hall. She focused on keeping the mystery man in view, but her efforts were frustrated by the constant need to push through inconvenient pockets of guests. If they would just clear out so she could see -- _Him!_ The glimpses she managed made her pulse race. _Was he tall?_ No - not very - maybe not even as tall as she, but he was oh so graceful. She realized that he moved like a wolf hunting its prey. _Was he handsome?_ Even with the mask obscuring his face, Sansa was sure that he would be very good looking. She caught a flash of his eyes across the room... _dark, intense, so sexy._ She had lost him and feeling utterly bereft, she stopped on the edge of the dance floor. _Where was he?_

Suddenly all air left her lungs, leaving her breathless and dizzy. A touch, _so very light but electric in its impact_ , fingertip to fingertip. _Don’t turn around, Sansa_ , _don’t let reality intrude._ His touch persisted, inexorably forcing her to turn and come face to face with her fantasy. The Phantom’s glance moved slowly, taking her in, from the soles of her glittering shoes to the sparkling tiara in her dark hair, then his dark eyes finally returned to capture hers. Familiar music started...a seductive, tango like beat, the melody... _Point of No Return,_ which Sansa had often danced to in her room, an imaginary lover at her back with his strong arms around her middle.

The mystery Phantom tossed his hat to the side, revealing ink dark hair. His elegant cloak followed the hat. As the persistent beat took over, Sansa’s Phantom stepped back on his heel and then moved forward to turn her, grasping her possessively at her waist, drawing her back up against his body. Sansa’s hand reflexively sought his forearm to steady herself. _Was he built?_ Oh, Gods, Yes!

As they stepped through the tango, Sansa realized that her partner was a commanding dancer. Back and forth, step by step, in perfect time to the rhythm, he swept her across the dance floor, moving her to his will, Phantom always keeping _his_ Christine close. As the dance drew to a close, he leaned her back against his arm until her head almost touched the floor and then he drew her back up until her chest was flush with his. He had been in total command, but Sansa’s eyes snapped to him. His heart was racing and not from exertion. Despite his command she knew he was beyond nervous. _Who was he?_ She reached for his mask, touching the edge with her fingertips and began to lift...

Breathing harshly, her unknown partner pulled from Sansa as if her touch had suddenly burned him. His eyes darted to her face and his tongue darted out to run across his sinfully full lips. Shaking himself, the Phantom returned. He bowed to her, turned to take in the awestruck guests, and as applause for their solo performance erupted, he gracefully bowed again. Sweeping up his hat and cape, he strode across the hall affording Sansa her first glance at his back. _Is that ass for real?_

Just before he disappeared Old Nan stopped him for just a brief moment and then he strode out of the hall leaving without a backward glance.

*****************************************

Jon ran to his car and took off. He could _not_ be discovered. _Not now_. Two blocks from the castle, his racing heart finally slowed and he removed his mask. Jon’s hands were shaking and he gripped the steering wheel. He began laughing. His plan had worked even better than he could have hoped. And _Seven Hells,_ Sansa had been beyond beautiful. She was perfect! Jon had often dreamed of having her in his arms, but the reality had been beyond anything he could have every imagined. Thank the gods, at Nan’s suggestion he had paid a generous tip for the orchestra leader, who had brilliantly started conducting _Point of No Return_ at just the right moment!

Jon pulled into Sam’s drive. It had been a night of surprises for sure. He would have to plan his next move carefully. He would also have to send Nan a case of grape soda on Monday in appreciation for her help. He smiled as he remembered Nan’s fleeting words to him, as he left the hall. "Thought you said you couldn’t dance?," she had whispered. And his euphoric response, cheeky beyond belief, "Told you I _didn’t_ dance, Lady Nan. Never said I _couldn’t._ "


	3. Reflections on Saturday Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon has second thought about his appearance at the Barrister's Ball. Sansa doodles, thinks about her past, and wonders about her mystery dance partner. Not a lot of action, but some reflection to set the stage for later encounters!

Chapter 3

When Jon and Ghost arrived home early Sunday morning, Jon was still high as a kite with its strings cut loose. He had _danced_ with Sansa Stark. She had been high school Jon’s secret crush but except for the rare occasion he had never gotten closer than half a cafeteria away from her. But on Saturday evening, he had _actually_ held her in his arms as he had moved across a ball room floor with her. Jon tossed and turned all night, his mind in an adrenaline fueled turmoil, until he finally drifted off to sleep just before dawn.

By noon on Sunday morning, Jon’s analytical brain was beginning to intrude on his euphoria. As he lay in bed watching the late morning sunlight chase dust beams across his bedroom, he realized that while the ball had been a heady experience, it hadn’t, as his old Commander was wont to say, changed the game at all. Sure, he had danced with Sansa, but it wasn’t like he had given her much of a choice. Jon thought she had liked it, but he couldn’t be absolutely sure. And even if she had freaking _loved_ the experience, she had absolutely no clue who she was dancing with and Jon certainly didn’t want her to know, at least not yet. Maybe not for a long, long, long yet.

By dinner Sunday evening, Jon’s emotions had taken a nose dive into reality. Sansa didn’t know him and it wasn’t like he could just ring her up at the Stark mansion and introduce himself as her masked suitor. If Jon had changed from the skinny, painfully shy, dweeb he had been in high school, Sansa certainly wasn’t the same either. As perfect as she had been when Jon had first adored her, Sansa had grown into something far more than the pretty, energetic, popular - Homecoming - Valentine’s Day - Prom - _Everything -_ all wrapped into one- Queen he had once worshiped from afar. She was a gorgeously spectacular woman now. Many men, far more impressive than a struggling novice attorney, had likely wined and dined her, so while their tango across the dance floor had been a dream come true for Jon, it likely was just another walk in the park for Sansa. And it wasn’t like he could just ring her up and introduce himself as her old classmate who had become _Phantom_ for an evening, all for her. That would really be embarrassing!

Jon couldn’t sleep again on Sunday evening and so rose early on Monday. Jon was already hard at work when Gilly arrived. She breezed into his office, sat his usual coffee (black with one sugar) on his desk and then stood, arms crossed, with a copy of the Sunday edition of _The North Remembers_ dangling from her finger tips. "Something you want to tell me, Jon?" Gilly tapped her foot and looked down at her boss with a question mark written broadly across her face.

Shaking his head, Jon reached for his coffee and then leaned back in his chair, trying hard to act nonchalant. "No, not that I can think of. Why?"

Gilly sat down in the chair opposite Jon and pushed the paper toward him. "Oh, I don’t know. I thought you might want to tell me how a Saturday night at the bowling alley with Grenn and Pyp turned into _THIS_ ".

Jon shrugged innocently and then leaned forward to look at the newspaper. "Gills, I have no idea what you are going on about...." he stopped suddenly, swallowing hard in order to keep from spewing a mouthful of hot coffee directly at his secretary. There, in stark black and white was a large image from the Barristers Ball, picturing a ravishing Sansa Stark in the Phantom’s - make that _his -_ arms. Jon rubbed the back of his suddenly sweaty neck as he pretended to read the caption below the picture. "Looks like Sansa Stark from high school, you know, Ned Stark’s daughter?... and some masked guy." Gilly said nothing but Jon knew he was skating on thin ice so he kept talking. "Hey, that guy’s dressed like the Phantom of the Opera! Great costume!"

Gilly nodded her head, put her hands on her thighs, and pushed up from the chair. "Okay, so you are not going to be honest with the woman who keeps your books. Smart strategy. You know, I _told_ Sam something was up when you came back for Ghost with _no_ beard." Pausing at his door, she looked back, "Don’t know what you’re up to, but whenever you want to come clean, I’ll be glad to talk about it."

Jon grabbed the paper in both hands as soon as Gilly exited his office. He sounded out a low whistle as he leaned back in his chair. The headline under the picture read **"MYSTERY PHANTOM STEALS THE SHOW AT ANNUAL STARK FESTIVITIES"** and was attributed to society columnist Satin Flowers:

**The Barristers Ball is always the social event of the year and yours truly expected nothing less than a glittering soiree when I arrived at Winterfell Castle on Saturday night. I can assure my readers that this year’s black tie gathering of the legal community did not disappoint. Eddard (Ned) Stark and his lovely wife, Catelyn, continued their track record as gracious hosts. The decorations were divine, the food delicious, and the booze potent. _Everyone_ who is _Anyone_ was in attendance and all were garbed in extravagant costumes, some more appropriate than others (Petyr and Lysa Baelish, what _WERE_ you thinking?) Music provided by the renowned Winterfell String Orchestra under the direction of Maestro Luwin featured selections in keeping with the party’s _Musicals_ theme, and hundreds of guests enjoyed mingling on the dance floor throughout the evening.**

**Without a doubt, the highlight of the night was the sudden and dramatically mysterious appearance of a man dressed as the Phantom of the Opera. Yours truly would have _loved_ some up close and personal time with this luscious masked man but alas, his attention was focused entirely on the glorious Sansa Stark, eldest daughter of Ned and Catelyn, who as _coincidence_ would have it, was dressed as the Phantom’s muse, Christine Daae.**

**Oh, dear readers, I would love to describe that couple’s sexy tango pairing but, as this is a family newspaper, that rendition will have to wait for my tell-all book. Suffice it to say, however, that when our gorgeous masked man left the ball abruptly, many of the female guests were visibly disappointed. This reporter attempted to interview Ms. Stark, but she managed to avoid me for the rest of the evening so I cannot say with any certainty if this pairing was yet more evidence of the young lady’s flair for the dramatic or was truly a unexpected delight.**

**I might mention that the costume contest was judged by Marjorie Tyrell, her brother Loras, and his close friend** , **Renly Baratheon, who are visiting to see the fall color .** **_Whatever floats your boat!_ In this humble reporter’s opinion, the judges certainly got it right as they awarded the top prize, _Best Costumed Couple_ , to the duo of Sansa and her Mystery Man. I can also report that this selection did not appear to sit well with Sansa’s date for the evening, the stalwart (yawn) Harry Hardyng, who rumor has it, spent most of the evening at the bar and then left with another red head whose first name appears to be _Roz._ I assure you, my most loyal readers, that this intrepid reporter, Satin Flowers, will remain diligent in my effort to _FIND THAT MYSTERY MAN_ and I will keep you up to date with any new developments.**

Jon lowered the paper and pinched his nose between his thumb and index finger. _He really_ hadn’t thought this plan through! Jon wanted to get to know Sansa, _really know her_ as a person, and he wanted her to get to know him, the man he now was after years of Night’s Watch service, college, and law school. Jon had changed a lot and he was damned proud of what he had accomplished. All his escapade on Saturday night had proved was that he could dance a decent tango and knew how to get in and out of a building without his identity being discovered. For all his efforts, he still had not made a real connection with Sansa and now he had a rabid society reporter on his trail as well. The absolute worst thing that could happen was that Flowers would somehow identify him as the mystery man. That would totally screw up his true intentions.

_Jon, you idiot, if Sansa finds out that it was you at the Ball, she will think you are some kind of creep! What normal person puts on a mask and attempts to seduce someone he hasn’t seen in years in front of her family and two hundred other people?_

Jon shook his head and mentally admonished himself to get a grip. He had trained with special forces. He knew how to act tactically. He was a lawyer and he could think. He knew how to take a problem, figure it out, and solve it. This was no different. Jon would make sure that Sansa would never learn that he was the Phantom...at least not until, maybe, their first wedding anniversary. He would shift focus today: he would come up with a plan to make Sansa notice _him --_ Jon Snow -- the real man, and not some fantasy.

*********************************************

Sansa Stark absently doodled on a legal pad as she sat at the front reception desk in the imposing lobby of _Stark and Stark_. She had agreed to cover for the usual receptionist while she was on family leave after delivering twins. After all, Sansa reasoned, it wasn’t like she had a job of her own so she figured she might as well get out of her parents’ house during the day and make herself useful.

The job wasn’t hard, especially not for someone who had once served as CFO of a well respected art museum in Kings Landing, all while dreaming of life as an accomplished artist. But that job and those dreams were before...before Joffrey with his vicious mouth and ego killing criticism... before she had flown from Joffrey’s brutal sarcasm straight into the psychotic arms of Ramsey Bolton.

Sansa’s uncle by marriage, Petyr Baelish, had introduced her to the Bolton heir. Ramsey had seemed nice enough, certainly more polite and ego affirming than Joffrey. At least he didn’t make her feel like she was stupid and worthless. Three months after their first date, Sansa agreed to marry him. Ramsey wanted a small ceremony in front of a civil servant. _No need to have all your family fuss over us, Sansa dear._ Sansa had always dreamed of a big church wedding, white gown and catered reception. Those dreams didn’t happen, but at least they weren’t absolutely shattered - not like her wrist the first time Ramsey twisted it while rebuking her for daring to actually express an opinion contrary to his.

Before too long, Sansa had been forced to quit her job - _Can’t have you spreading rumors about us at work, can we, Sweetheart?_ Ramsey refused to let her call her family except, of course, for the one time she called and while reading from a script forced into her hand, cursed at her sweet mother and father, demanding that they leave her the hells alone to live her life the way she chose. That call had been made at literal knife point and even her stellar performance hadn’t spared her a vicious swipe with the blade afterwards.

After months of abuse, Sansa finally acted on what little self-esteem and courage she had left. She worked for weeks to figure out a way to escape from her guard’s attention just long enough to find an outside phone in the Bolton compound. Sansa had called home and begged for help. She was spared from relating the horrific details....turns out her whole family already _knew_ something was wrong, and they had just been waiting for her to reach out. Within hours, Brienne Tarth, a family friend who just happened to be the Marshal for the entire North, was knocking on the Bolton gate with a full contingent of force behind her. Brienne was Sansa’s Godsmother and she had sworn an oath to Catelyn when both Sansa and Arya were born that she would protect her friend’s girls with her life. Brienne took her vow seriously so on that fateful day two years before, she had refused to leave the Moat until Roose Bolton had delivered Sansa into her keeping. Brienne would have liked nothing better than to have personally beaten Ramsey to a pulp, but somehow the weasel had managed to escape just before the compound was surrounded.

Afterwards, Ned had persuaded Brienne to let it go....not to search further for Ramsey... Sansa’s father knew all too well how shamefully victims of domestic violence were treated in the court system and he encouraged his daughter to just "let it go" and instead turn her mind toward her future.

Except Sansa couldn’t just let it go. What future? She had no plans, no prospects. She came home to a concerned mother and a doting father, to an over protective Robb, a furious Arya, and two confused little brothers. They all had each other... they had always had each other while she had been living in the hells hole that her two year marriage to Ramsey had been. She was furious with them. How could they beat their chests and moan over what had been done to _their_ family? It had happened to _her_ and now they just wanted to sweep it under the rug. Sansa hated them almost as much as she had hated Ramsey, almost as much as she loathed herself.

Sansa spent months raging from silent to stormy. Finally, after one night of way too much booze and almost too many pills, she hit bottom. Arya found her unconscious in the bathroom. When she woke up in a private wing of the Seven Sisters Hospital, Sansa knew she couldn’t just pick up the pieces of her life and move on as if nothing had happened. Her shaken family agreed. With her parents help she found a respected wellness center in Dorne. She spent months in therapy there, making progress, regressing, moving forward by inches only to slip back a mile, but slowly and surely, she got better. She was finally able to accept that what had happened to her did not define her. Sansa graduated from the program and came home. On the day that she returned North, her father took her to Brienne’s office and she swore out a warrant for the capture and arrest of one Ramsey Bolton for assault, kidnapping, and false imprisonment. After signing the complaint, Sansa had broken down in her father’s arms while Ned cried bitter tears of his own into her hair.

Ramsey hadn’t been found yet and the warrant remained outstanding. No doubt the creep was hiding in some shady hells hole. Sansa did worry that he might come after her, but she refused to let him rule her life. She had learned what was important. The moment her father showed her that he was willing to put her ahead of their family reputation was the moment that had set Sansa free like a bird from a cage. The Starks had surrounded her like a pack of wolves protecting an injured member. Woe to anyone in Wintertown or in the entire North that would dare to cast shade at their Sansa.

Lost in her thoughts, Sansa drew another line along her paper. The phone rang and she answered, _"Stark and Stark, Attorneys. How may I help you?"_ After directing the call to the right party, Sansa looked down at what she had been absently sketching. She inhaled sharply. There on the paper, drawn with her skill and special style, was the man she had danced with at the Barristers Ball. She lowered her pen and took in the portrait that her subconscious had created. His dark hair, his even darker eyes, his strong throat and chiseled jaw. Sansa felt a flush come over her. She had dreamed of this mysterious man last night. He hadn’t spoken to her on Saturday, but in her dream, she heard his voice. It was deep and low, softened by a familiar Northern accent. The Phantom _had_ touched her both at the ball and in her dream. His touch had set her afire both times. She was still aching in wonder at the fact that a man, someone other than her father and brothers, had touched her and had not caused her to feel sick. That hadn’t happened since Ramsey. Why was this man so different? ----

"Dragon for your thoughts," she heard a familiar voice chirp. It was Margery Tyrell, her best friend from college, who was here for a visit. Margery was one of the few people who knew about Sansa’s ordeal and recovery. Sansa quickly flipped the drawing over but suspected that Marjorie had a good idea what the paper contained. "Seen the paper?" Marjorie asked as she slid the Sunday edition of _The North Remembers_ over to her. She continued teasingly, "Can’t believe that I wore an Ellaria Sand original to the ball and you got your picture on the society page. How is that fair?"

Sansa scanned the article but her attention was drawn back to the picture of herself in the arms of the man of her dreams. Marjorie leaned her arms on the counter and looked down at Sansa. "I gotta say, dear friend, your shitty luck in men may be about to change." She waved her hand across the paper. "I mean, look at that man! He looks like sex on a stick. Ummm, delicious!"

Sansa blushed and rose to grab her jacket and purse from the back of her chair. "Let’s keep it down to a low simmer, Margie. I’m not sure that the crowd at Hot Pie’s can handle this much lust on a Monday."

Margie giggled as she looped her arm through Sansa’s and pulled her friend through the firm’s front door. "I know, Sans, but I swear, I would exhaust my grandmother’s trust fund to know who that man is!" As they moved onto the sidewalk, she leaned over to her friend and whispered, "I have to say, he did seem awfully familiar. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I could swear I know him from somewhere."

Sansa pushed her coat collar up against the autumn breeze as the two friends set off for lunch. "Well, I wouldn’t count on it, Margie. My experience is that someone like that..like the _Phantom_ , well, he is just a dream. He doesn't really exist. Nothing that good can be real."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, truly intended to move on to an introduction of Tormund and his legal woes in this chapter, but then I realized that if I did a necessary recap of the Barrister's Ball from both Jon and Sansa's perspective, I needed a separate chapter. Promise, pinky swear, next chapter, Tormund will show up at Jon's office and there will be a face to face Jon and Sansa encounter.


	4. Fences Don't Make Bad Neighbors Good, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon gets a new case. Jon and Ghost host Trick or Treat at the Tarlys where they meet Sansa, her niece and nephew (Robb's twins!) and Margery. Jon and Sansa both reflect on their high school experiences.

Chapter 4 - Fences Don’t Make Bad Neighbors Good - Part One

Gilly Tarly looked up from the file drawer where she was sorting new case files, alerted as the bell over the office door rang out. Straightening up, she smiled at the big man who was hesitating in the doorway, shoulders inside, torso and legs still hovering outside.

"Can I help you?"

Her words propelled him fully into the office where his bulk easily filled up more than half of the waiting area. "I need to talk to a lawyer."

Gilly nodded and pointed to a chair, "Mr. Snow is in court right now, but I expect him back in about 20 minutes. Would you like to wait?" she paused, looking at Jon’s calendar - _completely blank for the rest of the day_ \- and then fibbed cheerfully, "I believe he would have some time to speak to you before his next appointment, Mr....?"

"Giantsbane, Tormund Giantsbane,....but just call me Tormund."

Gilly pulled out a sheet from the organizing tray sitting on the corner of her desk, inserting it into a clipboard. She moved from her desk and handed the man the clipboard along with a pen. "Would you mind filling this client information form out, Mr. Giant..., Tormund? This will help Mr. Snow know something about your legal issues and also whether he has any conflicts that would keep him from taking your case." She smiled a sweet smile, handing him the board, and then moved to get him a cup of water from the cooler. "Now, if you have any questions, just ask me, OK?"

The big man laid the clipboard on his knee and bent over to complete his assignment, Gilly thought the pen looked like a toothpick in his large paw, but his fierce demeanor was softened by the friendly gleam in his eye. As he worked on the form, he glanced up from time to time. "Gilly Tarly" he motioned at the sign on her desk and then looked pointedly at the ring finger on her left hand, "that your married name?"

She nodded, "My husband is a chiropractor here in Winterfell."

"You don’t sound like you were born this far south though. You sound like someone from the _True_ North."

She smiled. "Well, yes, I actually met my husband when he was working as tactical support for the Night’s Watch. I grew up at Craster’s Keep north of the wall."

A smile broke through the giant’s wild red beard. "I _knew_ it. Can always tell when a gal is a True Norther. I’m from the North myself, come from all the way up close to Hardhome."

Gilly smiled teasingly, "Well, what brings you so far _south,_ Tormund?"

Tormund bobbed his head excitedly, "Goats, Ms. Gilly. Goats!"

Gilly laughed out loud, "Goats!?"

Tormund waggled his eyebrows at her. "That’s right. Cute little fuckers. Me and the Wife been raising them on a little farm up close to the Gift for about fifteen years now."

Tormund whipped his phone out and after punching some buttons, started showing Gilly pictures of goats of various ages, sizes, and colors. Gilly laughed delightedly at the babies, they were such cute little balls of fluff with their long spindly legs.

Gilly arched her eyebrows at the man. "So what kind of legal trouble can goats cause, Mr. Tormund?"

Tormund sat down in disgust, shaking his head. "Ain’t the goats, Ms. Gilly, they’re better’n most people I know, the missus and my two gals being exceptions to the rule. It’s my frickin’ neighbor. He’s giving me all kinds of grief," pulling out a long document from his coat pocket, Tormund slapped it on the desk for emphasis, "and now he’s gone and sued me over a damn fence!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jon saw that Gilly had company in the office as he passed by the front window. Opening the door, he entered and nodded to the big man sitting in the reception area.

"Mr. Snow, this is Mr. Tormund Giantsbane. He would like to speak to you about a legal matter." Gilly handed him the clipboard. "I had him complete the client form."

Jon sat his briefcase down, and extended his hand to his prospective client. "Nice to meet you, Mr....."

"Just Tormund, I like things on a first name basis, is that alright with you...., _Jon_?"

Jon prided himself on his ability to read people. It had certainly served him well during his time in the Night’s Watch. He immediately liked the red-headed giant towering over him even as the man took his hand and damn near crushed it in his.

"Come on in to my office and we’ll talk. Gilly, you can go on to lunch if you like."

Gilly picked up her purse and jacket. "Thanks, boss, I need to go pick up candy for tonight. Remember, you and Ghost are going to hold the fort down at the house while Sam and I take the boys out for Trick or Treat."

Jon nodded back at Gilly even as he motioned Tormund into his office and pointed him to the chair in front of his desk. Jon plopped down in his own chair, swiveled around as he loosened his tie, and started scanning the client form.

"So you have been sued by your neighbor, Robert Glover, over a fence, that right?"

"That’s right and I want to fight it. Tooth and nail, Jon. I want you to take my case and make the bastard regret the day he ever crossed me."

Tormund handed Jon the paper he had been carrying in his coat pocket, "Got this served on me by a sheriff’s deputy late yesterday." Jon nodded as he took the document. "Give me a moment to read it over and then we’ll talk." Jon read the document. It was a complaint filed in the Winterfell District Court. The Plaintiff was Robert Glover and the named Defendant was Tormund Giantsbane.

After a few moments, Jon looked up. "Tormund, this law suit is claiming that Mr. Glover built a new boundary line fence between your two farms." Tormund nodded, his big hands clasped tensely on his knees. "Glover is saying that he bore the entire cost of building the fence but that he did so in reliance upon your express promise to pay half of the cost."

Tormund pounded Jon’s desk so hard that his picture of Ghost toppled over. "That’s a damn lie! I told him I didn’t need no new fancy plank fence. The wire fence that was there was perfectly fine for me and my goats. Little fellers don’t even do well with board fence, they chew it up and then they get splinters in their mouths! Hurts ‘em somethin’ fierce!"

Jon nodded, dragging his pencil down the document. "Well, I understand, but that’s what the complaint says. Glover is suing you on the basis of what is called _unjust enrichment._ He is saying that you have benefitted from the fence which he built in reliance upon your promise to pay half of the cost, and as such, you were unjustly enriched, all to his detriment."

Tormund shook his head vehemently. "The fence that was there was absolutely fine. It kept my goats on my side and I never had no problem with the cattle that belonged to the widow lady who was my neighbor until that damn Glover bought her out." Tormund leaned forward and waggled his eyebrows. "The truth is, he’s planning on building a big fancy breeding farm for thoroughbreds. Told me a wire fence would embarrass him when he had big horse owners come to call."

Jon leaned forward and placed his hands on the desk. " Glover is claiming he’s out 20 grand for the fence. He wants you to pay $10,000.00 plus he’s asking for his legal fees and costs to be reimbursed by you." Jon flipped to the back page, "Let’s see who his attorney is..." his voice dropped off as he saw Robb Stark’s signature right above the Stark firm logo. Jon cleared his throat and shot a level gaze at the man sitting across from him. "He’s got good legal counsel and you can bet he’s paying a pretty penny for their services. They aren’t going to go easy on you. Sure you don’t want to see if we can settle? I think we could argue that you should only have to pay for the cost of a woven wire fence, not a 4 board plank fence. That would likely cut your costs way down. You can settle this and avoid a trial."

Tormund smacked his hand on the table again. "I don’t _want_ to settle. I want to fight the bastard, no matter the cost. He’s lying through his fancy bleached teeth and I want him to pay for those lies." Tormund leaned back and stared long and hard at Jon. Jon was familiar with that look from his Ranger days fighting rogue Wildlings and he tensed up, his hands fisting under the desk. 

" I heard tell from Nan at the courthouse that you were smart, tough and hungry. Said you would jump at a chance to take on a case with the Starks on the other side. Maybe she was wrong...maybe you’re just a pretty young boy who is scared to battle it out with the big fellows..."

Jon growled and leaned forward. "Wait a damn minute! I didn’t say I wouldn’t take your case. I am just trying to give you the facts before you decide to fight this thing. If you want a fight, I’ll fight. But you gotta understand this about me.... I won’t lie to you and I won’t lie to the other side in order to win."

Tormund considered Jon’s words for a long moment. Then he nodded and pulled out a check from his coat pocket, laying it on the desk in front of Jon. "That enough for you to take my case?" Jon looked down and almost choked. The amount on the cashier’s check was twice what Glover was asking for in damages. _This will keep me afloat for three or four months!_ Tormund grinned as if he could read Jon’s mind, "Goat farming is a pretty good business especially if you don’t live large like them fancy Lannisters and Tyrells down south. Believe me, I can go toe to toe financially with Glover."

Jon stood and extended a hand to his new client. "Tormund, you have just hired yourself a lawyer. I’ll do the best I can for you, I promise." The goat farmer enveloped Jon’s hand in his own and nodded. "I have no doubt you will. Nan don’t give the kind of recommendation she gave you to just anybody."

******************************

Jon sat on Sam and Gilly’s front porch, and worked on his Answer to the Glover complaint, frequently interrupted as he handed out treats to the Tarly’s neighborhood children. Ghost was decked out in his usual Halloween attire, a " _Hot Dog"_ costume, which he wore with wounded dignity. Ghost was certainly popular since it seemed every other parent wanted a picture of Jon’s dog with their costumed children.

After Tormund had left the office and Jon had handed a delighted Gilly the hefty retainer check, _non refundable per Tormund’s instructions,_ he had spent the remainder of the day researching fence law. Jon felt sure that he could prove that the existing fence had been sufficient to meet the legal requirements for a boundary fence. It had turned livestock and kept them from escaping onto adjoining properties. Tormund would testify that in his fifteen years on the farm, his goats had never escaped through the wire fencing. A call to animal control had verified that no complaints had ever been filed against Tormund or his former neighbor regarding escaped animals. Jon intended to call the animal control director as a witness at trial.

Jon had also grilled Tormund about any supporting evidence he could produce to rebut Glover’s claim that Tormund had promised to pay for half the fence. Tormund told him that on the day Glover came to his house he had been at home, all alone, except for his pet "house" goats. Jon urged him to think long and hard as to anyone who might have seen his exchange with his neighbor. Otherwise it would be Tormund’s word against Glover’s and Jon worried that a Northern jury might at least subconsciously tend to believe a Northern rich man over a former Wildling. Jon had seen a lot of prejudice during his time at the Wall and he didn’t want to subject Tormund to that if he could help it. No doubt about it....an eyewitness was the key to winning the case.

Jon closed his laptop and stretched just as another horde of treat seekers started down the sidewalk. He sighed and reached for the bowl of candy Gilly had left him. "Sit, Ghost, and for gods sakes, _smile!"_ Ghost huffed indignantly but nonetheless as the small crowd reached the porch steps he turned on his full doggie charm.

"What a beautiful dog you have there!" Jon looked up to give a cursory thanks to the lady bestowing compliments on his dog and froze... Sansa Stark was standing there in all her glory. She was dressed, as, _what else_ , a fairy princess, all silvery sparkles and gleaming diamond points and her auburn hair (the brown dye now completely washed away, _Jon noted with satisfaction_ ), absolutely shone under the porch lights.

"Thank you," he managed a smile and then with more confidence, he confided in a fake whisper, "Ghost’s been on his best behavior because I promised him a steak if he didn’t eat a small child tonight." Sansa smiled at him, her blue eyes twinkling. "Should I be worried?" Jon noticed for the first time that Sansa had two very cute costumed toddlers, twins by the look of it, on her either side. She was also accompanied by an attractive female dressed in a very tight and slinky witch costume with a deep slit up one side. "Sansa, we should have come here _first_ ," Sexy Witch proclaimed as she batted her fake eyelashes at Jon, "the treats are to _die_ for!"

Sansa rolled her eyes even as she winked at Jon. "Don’t mind Margery," she said with a suppressed laugh, "I promised her drinks if she behaved herself while we took my niece and nephew out for Trick or Treat." As the children dropped their bags to pet Ghost, Sansa extended her hand. "Sansa Stark, these little ones are Neddie and Katy, and this _very_ bad witch is Margery Tyrell."

Jon swallowed and took Sansa’s hand. "It’s nice to see you again, Sansa."

Sansa tilted her head even as Margery’s eyes narrowed like a homing raven seeking its perch. "What do you mean...again?" Jon ignored Margery and turned to Sansa. "You probably don’t remember me, but we were in high school together. I was a year ahead of you....I'm Jon Snow."

Sansa’s beautiful lips tilted upward. "Of _course_ , I remember you, Jon! You were always so helpful....whenever anyone needed something done, Jon was always there to volunteer...." She turned to Margery, "Like, there was the time when Jon helped me hang fliers all over school to promote the spring musical." She turned back to Jon, "Remember, it took _hours_ because everyone in the drama club had taken off for May Day - Skip Day. If Jon hadn’t been there I would have had to do all the work by myself and...you weren’t even in the play but you were always so willing to help out!"

Jon nodded even as he thought, _It was one of the best days of my life....I got to spend an entire afternoon hanging with you, just the two of us...._ Jon cleared his throat, "Well, if I remember, you were really good in that play. I thought you were the best actress I had ever seen." Sansa blushed, reaching down to gather Neddie and Katy’s bags from the porch and to pull her preoccupied charges away from Ghost. As she turned to go, giving his dog a pat on the head, Sansa smiled at him. "It’s so good to see you again, Jon. Maybe we’ll run into each other around town?"

Jon pushed both hands deep in his pockets and nodded. "Sure thing." He stood there watching Sansa move away, kicking himself all the while because he didn’t ask her out for lunch or coffee. _You missed a golden opportunity there, Jonno!_ As the little party proceeded on down the sidewalk, Margery turned and called out, "So _nice_ to meet you, Jon! I sure hope to see you around!" Jon saw Sansa yank Margery close and whisper something he couldn’t hear, but Jon clearly heard Margery’s reply. "He _might_ have been a nerd in high school, Sansa, but you are blind as a fifth stage Stone Man if you _still_ think he’s a nerd!" Sansa didn’t look back to where Jon was still standing on the porch and Margery was forced to hurry down the street to keep up with Sansa and her young charges.

Jon scuffed his boot on the porch step. So Sansa _did_ remember him, but only as the overeager dork who was always conveniently there to help out. _Jon, you’ve got a long way to go before Miss Sansa Stark will be ready to give you the time of day._

***********************************

Two days later, Jon had completed the answer he intended to file in the Glover - Giantsbane case. Gilly copied the document and prepared an envelope for the copy which would be served upon Robb Stark as opposing counsel. She knocked on Jon’s open door. "Hey, boss, do you want me to hand deliver the copy to _Stark and Stark_ after I file the original with Nan?"

Jon stretched his arms over his head, then turned his attention back to the pile of work on his desk, "I know you need to pick little Sam up from preschool. Will you have enough time to do that beforehand?" Gilly nodded, "It won’t take long....I can just hand the envelope to Sansa at the front desk and she will see that Robb Stark gets it."

Jon nodded absently, "That’s good, Gills". Seconds later, Jon’s head shot up and he dropped his pen. "Gilly!" She popped her head back into his office, "Boss?" Jon shot up from his desk and grabbed his suit coat. "I think I need to stretch my legs, Gills. You go to the courthouse to file the original and I’ll take the copy to Starks. That way, you won’t be late and I’ll be able to get out of the office for awhile. Good for the ole brain to get some fresh air!"

Jon set off down the street at a fast pace, his heart pounding. Of course, how could he have forgotten?? The ever informative Jeyne Westerling had mentioned just last week that her old classmate, Sansa Stark... _You remember Sansa, right, Jon?_ was helping out as receptionist at her father’s firm. One hand holding on to the envelope, Jon made an effort to straighten his tie, smooth the wrinkles out of his dress shirt, tucking it neatly back into his pants, and running his fingers through his unruly curls. _Damn, I should have worn my contacts today! Sansa already remembers me as the nerd of Winterfell High and here I am...still wearing glasses!_ Jon thought about taking them off but realized he would surely embarrass himself if he couldn’t see his hand before his face.

Minutes later, Jon arrived at the imposing five story office building that housed Stark and Stark attorneys at law. Naturally the firm held prime real estate located just diagonally across the street from the courthouse. Giving his hair one more swipe and pushing his glasses up his nose for the final time, Jon took a deep breath and pulled the front door open. Instead of the clanging trolley car sound created by the bell over his office door when it opened, this gold plated entry swished silently into a reception area bigger than his office and apartment combined. Jon was greeted by soft instrumental music which wafted over the large room. Tasteful furnishings, plush carpet thicker than Ghost’s fur in winter, and expensive paintings - original works, no doubt - greeted his gaze. All of that fell away though when he looked over at the receptionist station. Sansa sat behind the high counter, her head bent down so that Jon could just see the top of her head, long auburn hair parted down the middle. Sansa looked up from her desk, "How may I help...? Jon? Is that you?" Sansa smiled, giving the impression that she was delighted to see him. _Of course she would ... she was born to be polite. It’s imprinted on her bones._

"What brings you here?" Sansa asked as she reached for the telephone. "Do you need to see one of the attorneys?"

Jon shook his head and handed her the packet in his hand. "No. Actually, I’m here to drop this off for Robb. I’m opposing counsel in the Glover-Giantsbane matter."

Sansa took the package, her fingertip running over the embossed return address on the corner. "Jon Stark, Attorney. You went to law school? You became an attorney?"

Despite himself, Jon nodded proudly. "Yep. I just graduated this past spring. Got my bar results in September, and started practicing as soon as I was sworn in."

Sansa smiled at him warmly, causing Jon’s stomach muscles to tighten in a not unpleasant way. "Jon, that is wonderful! I didn’t know! I don’t think Dad or Robb did either." She stood and extended her hand in congratulations but then stopped, a sudden appalled look on her face. "Oh, Jon, if I had known you were a practicing attorney now, I would have made sure you received an invite to the Barristers Ball. Everyone who is anyone was there. I’m _so_ sorry!"

Jon shrugged holding her warm hand just a moment too long for a businesslike handshake. _Propriety be damned,_ he thought. _I could hold hands with her for an entire Northern winter._ "That’s OK, Sansa. I’m not much for dancing or party going."

Sansa shook her head as she buzzed for a runner. "Regardless, you _are_ an attorney now, and if you are going to practice in this town, then you are a member of the pack." A young intern appeared behind Sansa and she handed him the envelope. "Take that to Robb Stark’s secretary. Make sure she gets it right away."

As the intern hurried to do her bidding, Sansa turned back to Jon, her professional demeanor slipping a bit as she looked down. "Jon, about the other night....I’m sorry if Margery came on a little strong. She doesn’t mean anything really. She just has a way of letting everyone know her opinions...in no uncertain terms."

Jon swallowed hard and took the plunge. "And what opinions did she have that you thought would bother me, Ms. Stark?"

Sansa blushed to the roots of her hair and Jon thought he had never seen anything so charming. "Well, she, I mean, Margery said, that is, what I meant to say...." Sansa stopped, adopted a rigid pose, and looked fixedly at a point over Jon’s shoulder as she blurted out one long breathless sentence, "Margery thought you were hot and she didn’t believe me when I told her that you were nothing like that in high school, that you were shy and awkward and quiet and a... a... you were a nerd, Jon! What _happened_ to you?"

Jon smiled, suddenly feeling _so_ much better. Sansa _had_ noticed he wasn’t the same loser that he was back in high school. He leaned his forearms on the counter, startling Sansa and causing her to step back. Jon frowned. _This behavior was new! Sansa had never been so skittish in high school, had she?_

He moved away from the counter and was relieved when Sansa seemed to relax again. _Maybe she isn’t comfortable with the new, different Jon. Maybe you should just be plain old nerdy Jon for awhile._

Jon smiled, rewinding to his standard, charming but awkward smile, looking down, then back up again. "I guess everyone changes some after high school, Sansa. A lot has happened to me since we were in high school. I’d like to tell you all about it. Maybe we could have coffee sometime and just catch up?"

Sansa looked at him. Tension seemed to roll off her in waves. But then she shook herself and gathered her composure. "That sounds nice, Jon. I would love to have coffee with an old friend."

Jon backed away, palms up. "Great. I’ll call you sometime." He turned on his heel and headed out the door, but then paused for a moment, his hand on the push bar. He gathered himself and turned. "Maybe I have changed, and well, maybe you have too, but believe me, Ms Sansa Stark, when I tell you that from where I am standing, you are still as beautiful as you ever were. Actually, you are even _more_ beautiful than the girl I knew in high school."

*****************************

Sansa sat down in her chair, her face burning. She looked dazedly at the door Jon Snow had just vacated. Sansa let out a long breath and nervously twisted one lock of her hair in her fingers. She liked Jon, she had always liked him in high school. Back then, he had been _so_ polite, _so_ kind, _so_ attentive, just _so_ , _so_ nice to her. Somehow, even when he had dressed like a dork with his collar buttoned tight, right up to his neck, with his thick glasses always smudged, his khakis always just a tad too short, down deep, deep down in her core, Sansa had still thought him _so_ cute! She couldn’t tell anyone that of course. A girl, a _popular_ girl, had standards to uphold and that meant always hanging with the right crowd, dating a cool guy, someone athletic and popular and just what all the other girls wanted. She _couldn’t_ be seen with a skinny guy who carried a stack of books taller than himself, who played no sports, who could always be found in the library but who was _never_ seen at any of the parties that everyone else just _had_ to attend. Still, whenever she had been in need, whenever she had found herself in a pickle, it always somehow seemed that Jon inevitably knew her distress and he always managed to be around to take care of things for her. That boy, the one she secretly thought of as _Superhero Jon,_ he could always make everything better. She panicked... he calmed her down; she over thought problems...he found an obvious solution; she grasped for purpose in all the attention she received....he steadied her with his soft, dark-eyed gaze filtered through those impossibly thick glasses. She faltered...he held her upright with his quiet unshakeable confidence that she, Sansa Stark, was _the_ absolute best. He had come to her rescue not just during the musical fiasco, but time and time again. From where he stood now, all grown up and _so_ different, he might not even recall their many encounters, but she did. Sansa Stark certainly remembered. He had been her Prince in Dork’s Clothing and looking back all these years later, she had to acknowledge Jon had always quietly, secretly, watched out for her.

Sansa had never admitted this to anyone, not Jeyne Westerling, not Wylla Manderly, not the other Jeyne. Certainly not to her mother or anyone in her family and most certainly not to the boy himself. But by the time Jon had graduated as, _big surprise,_ class valedictorian, and had left Winterfell, she had been half in love with him. But then Jon had just disappeared and so Sansa had continued her unchallenged glory days as _the_ most popular girl in high school all the way to graduation, then on to Kings Landing University...all the way to Joffrey...to Ramsey...

She shook herself and forced her mind back to the present. Sansa realized her hands were tightly knotted in her skirt and she forced herself to take deep breaths and to relax. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Jon Snow had changed, in appearance if in no other way. He was good looking, beautiful really, but in a totally masculine way. His voice...had it deepened since high school, or was the fact that the voice was now coming from a body packed with muscle, playing tricks with her memory? She let out a shaky laugh....her life....her fragile life that she had painstakingly pieced together from the fragments Ramsey had left her, had been subject to two big shocks in less than a week. First, the mysterious Phantom had taken her breath away at the ball and now...her sweet dork, Jon Snow, had suddenly reappeared, deliciously grown up and oh, so dangerously interesting.

Sansa took another breath, exhaling even as she nodded to herself. She had to be careful. Being swept away by appearances was what had almost led her to ruin the first time. She couldn’t let any man, no matter how sweet the memories, turn her life upside down again. She had to be careful. She had to be...she couldn’t let Jon Snow tear her life apart like Joffrey and Ramsey. It was better to be alone than afraid. She might have a coffee with him just for old times sake and because of the memory of the sweet boy he had been, but she would never forget that Jon Snow was now a man...and men, especially beautiful men, were dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as a new fanfiction author, I am learning that it takes a while to move your characters along to where you want them to be, especially ones with as much emotional baggage as Jon and Sansa. So this will be a two parter. Next part, the actual trial. Jon also meets Tormund's farm help...hint, hint, another redhead with a wildling background. Jon and Sansa take one step forward (coffee at Hot Pie's) and five steps back....the trial!!


	5. Chapter 5, Fences Don't Make Bad Neighbors Good, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon takes Tormund's case to trial. As autumn moves into winter, he also has lunch with Sansa. Things are progressing nicely and then....Jon has to choose duty over love. After that,...not so much.

Fences Don’t Make Bad Neighbors Good - Part 2

"Your motion for summary judgment against the Defendant is denied, Mr. Stark. Is there any point in mediating this case before setting a trial date?" Judge Umber looked over his spectacles at the two attorneys standing before him.

Robb cleared his throat as he straightened his custom made tie. "Judge, with all due respect, I really think this is a summary judgment matter. We shouldn’t have to go to trial when the facts and issues are this clear."

Judge Umber graced Robb with his patented _"Your Time Is Up"_ face that Nan had warned Jon about. Jon stifled a laugh by coughing in his hand before speaking. "My client sees no point in mediation, Your Honor. As you have correctly determined, there is a fundamental issue of fact in this case, that is, whether or not my client agreed to pay for half of the fence constructed by Mr. Stark’s client. The Plaintiff has sworn in a verified statement that Mr. Giantsbane offered to pay but my client has sworn he absolutely did not agree to do so. It is a basic issue of fact and one that should be tried."

Umber nodded. "I think you have the right of it, Mr. Stark. This is a simple case and I should be able to give you a full day before Christmas if a bench trial is acceptable."

Jon _absolutely_ wanted a bench trial; he was fearful that a jury of Winterfell residents would lean Glover’s direction. To date Umber had been a straight arrow in his rulings so Jon preferred presenting the case before a District Judge who would rely on the law rather than 6 Northern citizens harboring unspoken prejudices. Before Robb could speak, Jon replied, "A bench trial is certainly acceptable to my client."

Since taking Tormund’s case, Jon had closely observed Robb Stark during motion hours. He liked Robb and thought him a capable attorney. Much to his amusement, however, Robb routinely exhibited physical tells which telegraphed his internal thought processes. Maybe it was his red hair and fair complexion, but when Robb Stark got flustered or aggravated, any observant person could clearly see it. At this point, Jon thought Robb looked like he was about ready to break out in hives.

"Judge, my client believes a jury trial is a better venue for this case." Robb looked over at Jon with a smirk, "As Mr. Snow here has stated, the issue is one of fact and a jury is _always_ the preferred trier of fact."

Umber sat back in his leather chair and templed his fingers. "You are correct, Mr. Stark. However, as you know, if this goes to a jury trial, it will delay scheduling a date well into next year. Is that what your client wants?"

Robb looked behind him to where Robert Glover sat at plaintiff’s counsel table. His client was obviously not happy with the way this motion hour was going and when the Judge mentioned a delay, he almost jumped out of his seat, shaking his head vigorously. Jon suspected he knew the reason: the scuttlebutt bouncing around the courthouse was that Glover had failed to land several big clients for his horse operation and his cash flow was now suffering. He obviously had been counting on a quick judgment against Tormund in order to plug the hole in his financial drain.

Robb sighed and turned back to the Judge. "In the interest of judicial economy, my client will agree to a bench trial, Your Honor."

Umber dryly responded, "Very good of him to do so." Jon wanted to laugh out loud. The Judge had obviously heard the local gossip as well. Umber flipped through his calendar, "I have a full day open on December 10. Will that work for everyone?"

Robb pulled out his cell phone to check his calendar and Jon likewise pretended to check his schedule knowing without a doubt it was clear. Robb began entering the date, "Works for me, Judge." Jon nodded as well. "It is good for me as well."

Umber nodded to the court clerk. "Put it on the docket then for Thursday, December 10, at 9:00 a.m. Counsel - exchange witness and exhibit lists ten days before trial. Rebuttal witnesses can, of course, be reserved." Umber nodded to the bailiff who announced, "Court dismissed" as the Judge rose and exited through his chamber door.

Jon straightened his file and was preparing to join Tormund when Robb approached. "Look, Snow, I know you _think_ you have a handle on this case, but as one attorney to another, this needs to be settled. The Judge is going to take one look at my pictures of the sorry fence that was there before my client replaced it, and he _is_ going to rule in my client’s favor. He lowered his voice and leaned toward Jon, "I can probably get my client to accept a much lower amount if we settle right now, but if this goes to trial, your client is going to be paying the full amount plus my fees which will be substantial."

Jon stepped back a half step; Robb was a bit taller than him but he was damned if he was going to let their difference in height intimidate him. He continued to busy himself with his file as he offered a sideways glance, "I will certainly take any offer your client makes to Mr. Giantsbane, but you know as well as I do that the law does not require a beautiful fence, merely one that turns livestock. We have proof that the old fence did that very well. You don’t have the law on your side, Counsel."

Robb pursed his lips...another tell. "And _you_ don’t have the facts. My client is going to be very persuasive when he tells the Judge that your client agreed to pay half the costs as long as Glover did the work. It doesn’t matter what your client says. Who do you think the Judge is going to believe? A Wildling goat farmer who came from beyond the Wall or a pillar of the Northern community?"

Jon said nothing in response; turning his back to Robb, he stepped to join Tormund at counsel table. Jon took the bigger man’s elbow, guiding him to the aisle as he motioned that they should leave. Once Tormund starting moving toward the double doors in the back of the courtroom, Jon stopped and turned back to where Robb and his client were still huddled, speaking clearly, "I expect, Mr. Stark, that the Judge will _believe_ the person who is telling the truth."

****************************

Jon snagged a window booth at Hot Pies right before the lunch crowd started streaming in. From experience Jon knew that if you wanted a seat at Hot Pies on Chili Wednesdays, you had to get there early. While Jon was looking forward to a bowl of Pie’s trademark _Balerion Dread_ \- named after the fabled dragon because the dish was hot as the sands in Dorne - his eagerness really stemmed from the fact that Sansa had finally agreed to meet him for lunch. Jon sat back, tie loosened, and stretched his arms across the back of the booth while he watched the door for Sansa’s arrival.

The diner door opened and Sansa entered. Jon rose and waved to get her attention. Sansa gave him a small nod and as she wove through the other patrons, she began unwrapping the blue scarf she was wearing, freeing her glorious auburn tresses to cascade down her shoulders. She slid into the seat opposite Jon who smiled at her, "It’s a brisk day out there. I felt a bit like Christopher Robin lost in the Blustery Wood while coming down the street."

Sansa smiled back. "Well, as we Starks always say, ... "Winter Is Coming." Jon had automatically joined Sansa in reciting the her house slogan which was well known throughout the North. Both of them started laughing at their synchronicity. Jon found himself entranced with the way Sansa’s creamy throat bobbed as she giggled; to distract himself, he began folding the paper from his straw into an accordian shape. Jon turned his contemplative gaze back to his booth mate, "Glad you could make it, Sansa. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me."

Sansa colored prettily, "Oh, no, I’ve just been busy, you know. Lots going on at the firm and with Thanksgiving coming up, Mother has a lot of "to do" lists for me to complete."

Jon arched a brow, "You live at home?" Sansa nodded, her face becoming a bit pensive, "For now. I came home about ten months ago and it just made sense for me to stay with my folks until I decide exactly what I want to do next."

Jon nodded, "I understand. I would probably still be camping out in my old room at Mum’s but luckily I found an office over on Torrhen Avenue with an apartment on the second floor. It isn’t fancy, but it’s enough for Ghost and me. Ghost’s my dog," he added by way of explanation. He took a gulp of his iced tea, "Nice to have a place of my own though."

Their conversation was interrupted by the waitress arriving to take their order. "You two want the special?" Sansa nodded and Jon ordered, "Two bowls of chili and ....a pumpkin latte with extra cream. Also, better bring Ms. Stark a tall glass of ice water and I’ll take a refill on the tea. Only way to survive the _Balerion_." The waitress chuckled as she tapped Jon on the shoulder with her order pad. "Smart man. I’ll get right on it."

When the waitress left the table, Sansa tilted her head, "You remembered my favorite coffee? How in the world?...."

It was Jon’s turn to blush. _I remember everything about you, Sansa Stark. "_ Aw, I just have a photographic memory. It’s especially helpful in remembering minutae like coffee preferences."

Sansa leaned back, giving him a once-over. "So Jon Snow, what have you been up to since graduation?"

Jon tapped his fingers on the table, "After high school I enlisted in the Night’s Watch. Somehow made it through eight weeks of basic and came out on the other side in one piece. The Lord Commander assigned me to the Rangers tactical strike force unit. I stayed with the Watch for my first tour of duty and started another one when...."

Sansa interrupted. "Jon, I had no idea! I always just assumed that when you graduated you went straight on to college. After all, you were the class valedictorian and..."

Sansa broke off, looking down shyly, then raising her eyes to meet his, "not exactly the member of your class who would have been voted _"Most Likely to Join the Rangers."_

Jon shrugged, "Believe me, no one was more surprised than me when I actually survived basic training. By then, I was kinda into the whole Night’s Watch vibe but I was still really blown away when I discovered that myopic me could actually hit long distance targets with some degree of accuracy. Anyway, I stayed in the Watch for three years until I was injured. Once I got my discharge, I enrolled at White Harbor for undergrad. Free ride because of my grades, test scores and because I had served in the Watch. He swallowed a sip of tea, "Graduated from college in two years because Commander Mormont had allowed me to take classes while I was at the Wall. Once I graduated, I applied to law school. Dorne University had a program for veterans and with my test scores, I was able to get a good scholarship there. So there you have it." He flashed a charming smile at Sansa. "My life since high school in a nutshell."

Sansa gave him a penetrating look, "You said you were injured. What happened?"

Jon swallowed hard and pulled his loosened tie even further away from his neck. "Well, that’s a long story and I don’t...." Their waitress arrived at that moment, depositing steaming bowls of chili with crackers, cheese, and their drinks before them on the table . " Uh...looks great, Val!" Val sauntered off, calling behind her, "Just let me know if you need anything else, hon."

Sansa arched her eyebrows, "Hon???" Jon stopped his heaping spoon midstream, the chili fogging his glasses. "Oh, I _think_ she said Jon." Sansa pursed her lips to keep from giggling, enjoying Jon’s discomfort, but decided to cut him a break. After all, this wasn’t a date, just a meet-up between old classmates. "Well, let’s dig in and keep the number for the fire department on stand-by."

Jon and Sansa continued their lunch with inconsequential small talk between bites of fiery chili and gulps of liquid. Sansa stole a glance every now and then to her table companion and realized mid-meal that she was actually enjoying herself. Maybe it was because Jon was so familiar. Even though he had certainly changed physically since she last saw him, in many ways, he was clearly still the same sweet Jon she had known in high school. She enjoyed the fact that he was still obviously a little flustered around her. _When was the last time she had affected a boy so just by her physical presence?_

Jon though... he hastily handed her a napkin when she almost choked on a particularly spicy bite, bent over to retrieve her scarf when it dropped to the floor and kept Val hopping, all to serve Sansa’s needs. After they had both called it quits on the chili, Jon motioned to Val and moments later, she appeared with a desert plate.

"Last piece, Hon. Enjoy." Jon grinned his thanks up at Val as he pushed the plate to Sansa’s side of the table. "Still your favorite?"

Sansa looked down at the lemon bar on the small plate and nodded fiercely, her eyes closing tightly to keep back the sudden tears that threatened to spill. She felt Jon grasp her hand and somehow she found herself holding on tightly instead of recoiling from his touch. "Sansa, I didn’t mean to upset you! I just thought you would like some dessert to cool your taste buds and I knew,... I mean,... I think I remember that you always liked the lemon bars at school..."

Sansa forced the words past her tight throat, "No, Jon, it’s fine. I still _love_ lemon bars. It’s just so sweet of you to remember. Thank you." She picked up the fork Val had brought and determinedly took a bite, forcing a quivering smile as she did so. "Delicious. Thank you."

Lunch over, Jon handed Sansa her scarf and allowed her to go ahead of him as they exited the diner. Once outside he pulled his coat closer against the brisk fall breeze even as Sansa held on to her scarf. "Walk you back to your office?" Sansa shook her head, "Only so far as your office, Jon. I’ll be fine to walk the rest of the way by myself. It’s only two more blocks."

They hurried down the busy street, conversation at a minimum as they dodged people on the sidewalk. When they arrived at Jon’s office, Sansa stopped and offered Jon her hand. "Thanks for lunch, Jon. I really enjoyed it and I am so glad I got to learn about your life since high school."

Jon leaned on the wall by his office door. "Maybe we can meet again for lunch and next time, you can tell me about _your_ life after Winterfell High." Sansa stiffened, Jon saw it and wondered at her sudden change in demeanor. "Not much to tell, I’m afraid. Thanks again, Jon." Sansa started to leave, but then stopped and turned suddenly. "Oh, and good luck with _the_ case. You are driving my big brother crazy. As a Stark, I can’t hope that you will win, but I _do_ hope you give him seven hells. Good for his ego." She smiled then and waved as she hurried on down the street, leaving Jon with a definite sense that he was missing something about Sansa’s life since he had left Winterfell.

************************************

Jon entered the office. He had a 1:30 appointment with Tormund to prepare his witness and exhibit lists. "How was lunch?" Gilly looked up from her typing.

Jon shuffled through his phone messages, making a note to return Nan’s call as soon as possible. "Was good. Chili was hot and the tea was cold."

Gilly gave him a pointed look. "Thanks for the culinary review, Jon, but I was really asking how your date went."

Jon shook his head as he headed into his office. "Not a _date_ , Gills, just a catch-up between classmates." Gilly rolled her eyes and began humming the _Phantom_ theme as she resumed typing. Jon immediately poked his head out of his office and pointed his finger, shaking it for emphasis. "No! You stop that right now, Gilly Tarly. Show a little respect." Gilly grinned at him - it was _so_ much fun to tease her boss.

Ten minutes later, Tormund entered the office accompanied by a flurry of autumn leaves and with a red headed girl in tow. "Gilly, my darlin’, how are you?"

Gilly smiled at the big man and his companion. "Just fine, Tormund. Have a seat. Jon will be with you shortly."

Tormund plopped in one of the reception chairs reminding Gilly of the Papa Wolf in the _"Wilding Girl and 3 Direwolves"_ story her little boys loved to hear at bedtime. "Take a load off, Ygritte." The girl sat down as well and gave the office...and Gilly...a once over. Gilly smiled at her and offered, "I’m Gilly, Mr. Snow’s administrative assistant."

Ygritte carelessly ran her hand through her messy braids, pulling out a leaf and something that looked like a small bird’s nest from her bright red tresses. She then stretched out long overall clad legs out in front of her. Gilly noticed that the muck boots she was wearing had evidently gone through, well, a _lot_ of muck recently. Ygritte ran her eyes around the office, "Fancy place you got here." Gilly shrugged modestly, "Well it’s not as elaborate as some of the bigger firms, but we have worked hard to make it nice."

Ygritte stretched her arms, poking Tormund in the process. "If I had known we were coming to a ritzy place like this, I’d a worn me silk dress." Tormund shook his head and waggled his eyebrows in Gilly’s direction. "Pay her no mind, Ms. Gilly. Ygritte likes to take the piss out of everyone if she can. Down deep, she’s a good girl with a heart of gold." He leaned forward as if to share a precious secret, "And my goats _love_ her." A stellar recommendation indeed, Gilly thought as she resumed typing.

*********************************

Jon greeted Tormund and ushered him into his office as Tormund introduced his attorney to Ygritte. Jon quickly learned that Ygritte, who worked for Tormund doing odd jobs on the farm, was the closest thing to a witness the big man could produce.

Jon leaned back in his chair as he tapped his pen on the desk. "So, Ms ......" The girl was standing in the center of the room, now giving his office a once-over. "Just Ygritte. She returned to take a seat next to Tormund, but not before she flipped the chair and sat with her arms resting on the back. Jon coughed, "Well, yes, uh, Ms. Ygritte...Tormund here tells me you were present on the day Glover came to see him."

Ygritte nodded as she swiped some Haribou from the covered candy dish on Jon’s desk. "Mmmh, that’s right" she mumbled as she chewed. I was standin’ in the barn. Couldn’t hear much but I could sure see them flingin’ their arms around. Looked like they were imitating one of them windmills the Northerners are so keen to have on their fancy farms."

Jon jotted some notes down on his legal pad. "So did you hear either Tormund or Glover say anything, anything at all?"

"Nope, nothin’ I could swear to, mostly just words here and there when the wind was right. But it sure didn’t look like they were passin’ pretty conversation at a tea party, I can tell you that." She pushed herself off the chair and resumed her restless inspection of Jon’s office.

Jon looked at his client, "Tormund, I’m not sure what Ygritte can add as a witness. We really need someone who can testify that you told Glover in no uncertain terms that you were not going to help him build the fence. Without such a witness it will just be your word against his."

Tormund smacked the desk, knocking both Ghost and Mum’s pictures over this time around. "Seven Hells, Jon, it’s the truth! Are you tellin’ me that the Judge won’t believe me?"

Jon surreptitiously picked up both frames, setting them to rights. "No, I believe that Judge Umber will be _more_ than fair. Remember, he ruled in our favor two weeks ago so his track record is reason for optimism. Jon leaned toward Tormund, "But dammit, we would have this case in the bag if we just had _one_ good eyewitness." He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, concentrating on trying to come up with another way to cinch the case.

"Who is that?" Jon opened his eyes to find Ygritte looking intently at something lying on the top of his bookcase. "Who is what?"

Ygritte picked up the copy of _The North Remembers_ that Gilly had brought Jon after the Barrister’s Ball. She dropped the paper on Jon’s desk and pointed to the picture emblazoned above Satin Flowers headline. "That. Who is she?"

Jon looked down but he already knew who Ygritte was pointing at, "That’s,...that is Sansa Stark. Why?"

Ygritte grinned and slapped Tormund on the shoulder, "Cause she was at the farm that day, the day that prick Glover came to tell you he was going to build a new fence."

Jon sat up, ramrod straight in his chair, his voice incredulous, "You’re telling me that Sansa Stark was _with_ Robert Glover the day he came to talk to Tormund?"

Ygritte shook her head, "Nope, not with him exactly. She was standing at the end of the drive, leaning on some fancy SUV somethin’ or other. She had her cell phone out and had it pointed at Tormund and Glover."

Jon stood up both hands pressed against the desk. "Ygritte, you are sure about this?" "I’m sure," the girl affirmed, "She looks somewhat different in this picture cause her hair is darker. The day I saw her she had red hair, darker than mine, but still kissed by fire though. But it’s her, I’d stake my life on it."

Tormund was nodding enthusiastically, "If she says it was Sansa Stark, it was her. Ygritte here can hit a target at 300 feet - she’s got the eyesight of a gyrfalcon. Does this help our case, Jon?"

Jon dropped back into his seat, his thoughts churning. "I think it might, Tormund. If Sansa Stark was there, it was likely at the direction of her brother, Robb Stark."

Tormund looked at Ygritte and explained, "He’s Glover’s fancy attorney," then, looking back at Jon, he asked, "This girl is his sister?"

Jon nodded and Tormund took a second look at the paper, letting out a long whistle. "She’s a real looker!"

Jon looked up sharply and then reminded himself to keep on point. "I’m guessing Robb sent Sansa out just to keep an eye on things. Not to interfere, he wouldn’t have wanted her to get involved in anything nasty, but just to get some video in case things went south between Glover and you." Noting his client’s insulted face, Jon hurried on, "I’m not saying that you would’ve been violent, Tormund, but Robb wouldn’t know that and Glover might even have told him you were aggressive."

Ygritte snorted, "Tormund is about as aggressive as a stuffed direwolf. He’s all bark and no bite. Even his goats run all over him."

Jon grinned at Ygritte, "You and I and the goats know that, but you gotta admit, Tormund is built like a walking altercation. I expect that Robb wanted evidence in case he needed to file an assault charge. Ygritte..., was Sansa close enough that she would have been able to hear what was said?"

Ygritte scrunched up her face a moment, thinking hard. "I think she’d of been able to hear what was going on. They were loud enough that I caught bits and pieces of their argument and I was at least 100 feet away. But she was no more than 25 feet away."

Tormund shook his shaggy head. "I can’t believe I didn’t notice her. I guess I was so fixed on that slimy Glover that I didn’t see anythin’ else."

Jon motioned for Tormund and Ygritte to both take a seat. "This could be what we need to break this case open for you. I will call Ygritte as a witness to establish that she saw someone at the end of the drive. We will establish it was Sansa by the picture in the paper, just like you did here. The article clearly identifies that it is her."

Jon was suddenly too keyed up to keep seated. As Tormund and Ygritte turned in their seats to follow his path around the office, he began pacing. "We’ll need to ask Glover on direct if there was someone with him. It won’t matter if he says ‘yes’ or ‘no’, he won’t ever admit that Tormund told him he wouldn’t pay for the fence. So either way, we can use Sansa Stark as a rebuttal witness." Jon paused and noticed that both were looking at him in confusion. "A rebuttal witness is someone who is called after the case in chief," he explained. "You call them to challenge something that has been said under oath and to contradict it." He paced again, thinking for a few moments, and then he nodded decisively, "Yes, it is our best shot. I won’t have to identify her early if she is a rebuttal witness but I will have a subpoena ready to get her to court."

Ygritte furrowed her brows, "You say she’s a Stark. If she’s workin’ for her brother, what’s to keep her from lyin’ about the whole thing? She can say Tormund agreed to build the fence. How’s that goin’ to help him?"

Jon looked her in the eye. "I have known Sansa Stark for a long time. She is not a liar. Gods, _none_ of the Starks are liars. They are known for their absolute honesty. She won’t lie." Jon turned to Tormund. "I told you when I took your case that I expected you to be honest. So I will ask you one more time and then we will let this go....are you being truthful when you say that you clearly told Glover you would not help him pay for the fence? Is that the truth?"

Tormund looked directly into Jon’s eyes and nodded, "It is. I am telling you the gods honest truth." Jon shook the big man’s hand as he exhaled, "Then we will set a trap for Glover using Sansa Stark as the bait."

***********************************

December 10, the day of trial, had arrived. Jon had spend the day before preparing for trial. He was nervous but quietly confident. As he stood at his desk placing his files in his briefcase, he mentally reviewed the points he needed to make clear to the Judge. The old fence had been in good shape and had held livestock without any issues. Jon had the Animal Control Director to testify to those facts. Tormund had produced some surprisingly good pictures of the fence before it had been torn down. Jon thought the Judge would particularly enjoy the one that showed Tormund holding one of his babies over the fence so that his widow lady neighbor could pet its head. All the pictures showed an old fence but one in good condition. He would call Tormund who was prepared to testify that he had raised goats for over 15 years with no escapes through the woven wire fence. Tormund was also prepared to produce a vet bill where he had taken two of his goats to have splinters removed after they had gnawed on the new wooden fence. Jon thought that might also play on the Judge’s sympathy; Nan had told him Umber had a dog he was crazy about and that he took to the doctor every time the dog whined.

Ygritte would be called to verify that she saw the men together and that they didn’t appear to be having a friendly conversation. Most importantly, while Robb Stark would undoubtedly press the girl on her inability to actually hear the conversation, Ygritte was more than convincing when she talked about seeing Sansa and that she was obviously taping the conversation. She was also adamant that the girl she saw was the same as in the newspaper picture and _that_ would nail her identity for the Judge.

Jon slid his last file in his case and closed his eyes. He _really_ didn’t want to involve Sansa but he had no choice. He had a duty to his client to put on the best case he could for him and Sansa was the key to winning at trial. Jon’s only hope was that once Robb heard Ygritte’s testimony, he would realize where Jon was going and he would voluntarily admit why she was there and what was said. Realistically though, Jon didn’t think Robb would cave at that point. If he didn’t then Jon had no choice but to call Sansa as a witness. He had the subpoena prepared and Grenn was on standby to serve Sansa with directions to immediately escort her and her cell phone to the courthouse. Jon sighed. _By tonight, whatever relationship I might have ever hoped to have with Sansa could be toast. But, as the Lord Commander always said, duty before love._

************************************

Robert Glover was an arrogant prick, smug and self-righteous. Jon was going to enjoy taking him down a peg or two. After Robb’s rather routine direct examination of his client, Jon rose to approach the witness box.

"So, Mr. Glover, you say that you and Mr. Giantsbane reached an understanding on the day you went to see him at his farm?"

Glover gave a short nod and then, prompted by the Judge, responded audibly. "That’s right, he agreed that the fence needed replacing and said he would be happy to pay half."

"And after that one conversation, did you ever go back to see my client again before you built the fence?" Jon pressed.

"Nope, no reason to do that. He had already said he would pay."

Jon turned slightly so that he could keep Robb in sight. "The day you went to my client’s farm, was there anyone who went with you?"

Glover smirked. "No, no one was with me. I drove over there by myself."

"Did your attorney send someone to witness your conversation with my client?"

Jon simultaneously noticed that Glover was squirming in the witness box and that Robb was suddenly on high alert. He waited a moment and then repeated the question. Glover was trying his best to get Robb’s attention, but Jon wasn’t going to let those two confer even by glances in the middle of his cross. He stepped in front of Glover so that he would have to lean out of his chair to see his attorney. "Judge, can you direct Mr. Glover to answer my question?"

Judge Umber had been absently twirling his chair from side to side, but Jon could see he had the Judge’s interest now as well. "Answer Mr. Snow’s question, sir."

Glover gulped and said quietly, "Not that I know of."

Jon fired back, "Not that you _know_ of. Is it possible that Mr. Stark sent someone without your knowledge?"

Glover stammered, "I don’t think, I mean, I can’t think why..." and finally spluttering, "I told you, I don’t know!"

Jon turned and walked back to counsel table, stating dismissively, "No further questions for this witness, Your Honor."

Umber looked over his spectacles at Robb Stark. "Redirect, counsel?"

Jon avoided looking over at Robb but he could sense the other attorney’s controlled agitation. "No sir. No further questions. No further proof."

Jon looked to the back of the courtroom where Gilly was sitting and nodded. Gilly slipped from her seat and left the courtroom. Jon had instructed her to have Grenn serve the subpoena at the end of Robb’s case in chief. With his case concluded, Robb predictably rose to request, yet again, Summary Judgment in his client’s favor. Judge Umber let Robb go on for five minutes or so, looked over to Jon with a small grin, and then denied the motion. Jon mentally pumped his fists: Umber was not buying Glover’s story! Robb trod back to his seat with a grim look on his face but his demeanor told Jon all he needed to know. He was not going to reveal Sansa’s involvement on his own. _So be it,_ Jon thought as he called his first witness.

Judge Umber looked at Jon. "Mr. Snow, are you ready to present your case?" Jon nodded and began presenting his client’s defense.

After getting the Animal Control Officer’s testimony out of the way, Jon called Tormund. In preparing for trial, he had put his client through mock testimony for hours on end. Tormund had been frustrated because, as he put it, _"Why can’t I just get up there and tell the truth?"_ Jon trusted his client and he certainly believed him. But he also had learned that even the most honest person needed to prepare for the unnerving experience of being in the witness box. Tormund had learned his lessons well. He looked the Judge straight in the eye when he told him that he and Glover had disagreed about building the fence. He was righteously indignant when he told the Judge about his babies being hurt by the new fence. _Jon noted with some satisfaction that the Judge was even wiping his eyes as he looked at the pictures of Tormund’s injured goats._ Tormund earned a gold seal on cross when in response to Robb’s questions, he stated with the firmness of a man taking a solemn oath, "Why would I agree to pay for a fence I didn’t need and that would hurt my babies?" Jon wanted to jump up and celebrate - Tormund had crushed it!

Ygritte came next and, true to form, she showed no fear. Jon had her explain to the Court where she was on the day Glover came to the farm. She readily acknowledged that she couldn’t hear their conversation but that they didn’t appear friendly. When the Judge asked her what she meant by that, she turned to him and smiled toothily, explaining that "They was flinging their arms around like they wanted to make fists, and they certainly wasn’t doing any hugging." Jon could tell the Judge thought Ygritte a breath of fresh air and he mentally chalked up another point for his side.

Jon walked up to the witness stand and put his arms on the bar. He wanted the Judge to focus on just him and Ygritte for this next part of her testimony. He _only_ hoped Ygritte wouldn’t think he was flirting because during the past few weeks she had made her interest clear.

"On the day in question when you were watching everything from the barn, did you see anyone else beside Mr. Giantsbane and Mr. Glover?"

Ygritte nodded and then remembered she was being taped. "I sure did."

"Who did you see?"

Ygritte pulled the newspaper out of her pocket. "This is who I saw" she proclaimed as she pointed at Sansa. "I didn’t know her name at the time, but this is the woman I saw. It says right here in this newspaper that her name is Sansa Stark."

Jon was braced for what followed. Robb jumped to his feet objecting, Judge Umber nearly broke his gavel pounding for order in the Court, and Tormund tried valiantly, but miserably failed, at hiding his grin.

The Judge pounded his desk one last time and then righted his spectacles. "Counsel in chambers right now!"

Fifteen minutes later, they reappeared. Jon strode over to his table. "Judge, I wish to call Sansa Stark as a rebuttal witness."

Umber nodded. "For the record, what is the purpose of this rebuttal testimony, Mr. Snow?"

Jon looked down and took a deep breath. _This is it. Robb has left me no choice. I hope Sansa understands._

"The purpose is to call into question Mr. Glover’s assertion that no one came to the farm on his behalf on the day in question. That fact has been directly and credibly contradicted by my witness and further has placed into direct question what Sansa Stark might be able to say about the conversation between my client and the Plaintiff. All of which makes her testimony directly relevant to this case."

Judge Umber leaned back and tapered his fingers. "Granted. Is Ms. Stark available?"

Jon looked to the back of the courtroom and found Gilly nodding. "Yes, Your Honor, I had a subpoena issued to Ms. Stark before I began my case in chief. I understand that it was served and I believe she has appeared and is now waiting outside the courtroom to be called."

"Very well. Bailiff, call Sansa Stark into the courtroom."

***********************************

The door opened. Jon resisted the urge to look back and kept his eyes focused on the legal pad in front of him. He looked up only when he sensed someone move past him. Sansa was standing in front of the Judge, her hands pressed together. Jon knew she was nervous; if it had been anyone else, he would have relished the questioning to follow.

Umber looked over his spectacles and graced Sansa with a small smile. "Ms. Stark. Please approach the witness stand and raise your hand to be sworn."

Jon watched Sansa move into the witness box. She was clutching the subpoena in her hands and had to lay it down to take the oath. "Do you swear or affirm to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you gods?" Sansa gave a tight nod and after Umber motioned for her to sit, sank into the chair.

Jon suddenly wished to be anywhere else. He cleared his throat and approached the box. "Would you state your name for the Court please?"

Sansa looked at Jon with a glacial stare far from the gentle smiles she had graced him with during their lunch two weeks prior. "My name is Sansa Stark as you well know, _Mr. Snow."_

Umber cleared his throat. Jon looked at the Judge and knew that he would admonish Sansa as to her tone if Jon requested, but Jon was a big boy and he figured he deserved it. He took a deep breath, determined to make his questioning surgical and precise and to get it over with as soon as possible.

"Ms. Stark, do you work for your brother, Robb Stark, at Stark and Stark PLLC?"

A curt response, "Yes, I work for my father and my brother and all the attorneys at the firm."

"Were you working there on or about August 15 of this year?"

Immediately, "Yes."

Jon continued, pointing at his client, "Did you have occasion on that date to go to the farm of Tormund Giantsbane seated here today at counsel table?"

For the first time, Sansa seemed discomfitted and Jon caught her looking pleadingly toward Robb who gave her a grim shake of his head. She straightened her shoulders and looked back at Jon.

 _If looks could kill,_ Jon thought, _Tormund would be needing a new attorney right about now._

"Yes. I went to the farm."

Jon pressed. "Why did you go to Mr. Giantsbane’s farm on that day?"

"My brother and father asked me to go on behalf of their client."

Jon looked over to the other side of the courtroom. "Which client?"

Sansa closed her eyes and then opened them. "Mr. Glover."

"Why did they ask you to go?"

Sansa straightened in her chair. Jon couldn’t help but admire her composure even though he could tell she was beyond upset. "They asked me to go to observe a meeting between Mr. Glover and Mr. Giantsbane."

Jon gave her a questioning look, "Why did they feel that was necessary, Ms. Stark?"

Robb popped out of his seat, Objection, Your Honor. Calls for hearsay testimony."

Jon folded his arms and looked back at Robb as if he had just suggested that Jon enter a beauty pageant. "Your Honor, it isn’t hearsay if the party referred to is present in the courtroom. I will accept an avowal from Mr. Stark as to the instructions he gave his sister if he insists."

Robb dropped his head and sat down. Umber let the whole exchange go and nodded to Jon to proceed.

Jon repeated the question, "Why did they ask you to go to the meeting, Ms. Stark?"

"They thought that Mr. Giantsbane might be aggressive toward Mr. Glover and they wanted me to observe and take video in case Mr. Glover needed to press charges."

Jon pounced, he couldn’t help himself. "So you took video of the conversation?"

Sansa nodded and then remembering herself responded audibly, "Yes."

Jon turned to the Judge. "Your Honor the subpoena I issued against Ms. Stark directed her to produce her cell phone before the Court. I asked the bailiff to take the phone in his custody and bring it to this proceeding."

Umber and Jon both looked at Grenn where he stood in the back of the courtroom. "Bailiff, did you bring the cell phone in question?"

Grenn nodded and moved in front of the Judge handing him the phone. Umber palmed it, gave it a once over, and then looked at Sansa. "Is this your cell phone, Ms. Stark?

"Yes." Umber handed it to her, "Please bring up the video you took of the meeting in question, Ms. Stark."

Sansa looked down for a few moments and then handed the phone back to the Judge.

Umber looked at Robb and then to Jon. "I am going to play this video gentlemen. Please approach so that you can view it with me."

Jon and Robb stood side by side as the Judge played the video. As the playback progressed, Jon could feel Robb wilting at his side. The recording picked up every word uttered by both Tormund and Glover. Jon felt an immense relief as he heard Tormund tell Glover that "There is no way in seven hells that I will help you pay for a vanity fence, you prick!" The video ended with Tormund telling Glover to get off his property and, as an added bonus, revealed that Glover had actually threatened the safety of Tormund’s goats.

When the video concluded, Umber glanced at Jon even as Robb plodded back to his seat. Jon was so elated that it took him a moment to realize what he needed to do next. He cleared his throat and looked again at Sansa, "Ms. Stark, is this a true and accurate representation of what you witnessed on the day in question?"

Sansa looked like she was on the verge of tears, but she spoke with a firm voice, "It is."

Jon nodded and looked at Sansa, hoping somehow that she understood he hated putting her through this, "Thank you, Ms. Stark. No more questions of this witness, Your Honor. I rest my case."

Umber looked at Robb Stark. "Any questions for this witness, Mr. Stark?"

Robb looked like he was on the verge of tears as well, "No, Your Honor. I just want to put it on the record that I deeply regret that I have put my sister in this position."

Umber grunted, "Duly noted and appreciated, Mr. Stark." He nodded to Sansa and gently motioned for her to leave the witness box. Sansa stepped down, avoiding Jon, and stopping only to place a gentle hand on her brother’s shoulder. Then she held her head high as she proceeded down through the swinging bar and walked out of the courtroom like a queen. Umber waited until Sansa had left the room and then turned to the attorneys and their clients.

"The sole legal basis for the Plaintiff’s case was that of unjust enrichment. Mr. Glover claimed that Mr. Giantsbane had agreed to help him pay for a new fence. On that basis he built a new fence and then was damaged when Giantsbane refused to pay." Umber looked over at the table where Robb and Glover, giving them both a stern look. "The Plaintiff bears the burden of proof and I think it is clear from the evidence that not only has he failed utterly to prove his case, he has given this Court reason to believe that its time today has been totally wasted."

Umber looked at Tormund, who was sitting on the edge of his seat. "Sir, not only did you have no legal responsibility to pay for any part of the fence Glover constructed, but you also should not have had to bear the costs of defending yourself before this Court. I apologize for that. Due to the clear circumstances of this case, I find for the Defendant, Tormund Giantsbane. The Plaintiff’s complaint is dismissed as being without merit." Umber then looked directly at Glover who was sinking below the table. " I also find that the Plaintiff shall reimburse Mr. Giantsbane the entire sum of his attorney’s fees and further, I direct that Mr. Glover shall pay for all medical bills which Mr. Giantsbane has incurred in the treatment of his livestock due to the injuries sustained by them which were caused by the new fence." Umber hit his gavel on the bench and then rose, proclaiming, "Court is adjourned."

Jon expelled a relieved breath, only to gasp as Tormund enveloped him in a bear hug. "You did it, Jon! You did it!" Jon pulled away and grasped his client’s hand. "Thank you for trusting me with your case, Tormund. I appreciate it."

Ygritte, Gilly, and Grenn flocked the table to help Jon and Tormund celebrate. Tormund hugged Gilly so hard that her feet flew off the floor. Grenn pounded Jon on the back and Ygritte pulled him close for a quick, whispered, "Nice job, pretty boy." Embarrassed Jon pulled back and turned to see Robb closing the clasps on his briefcase. He walked to where Robb stood and extended his hand, "Counsel." Robb looked at him hard for a long moment and then offered his hand for a shake. "Congratulations, Snow. You put on a hell of a case."

"Thanks." Jon cleared his throat, "Hey, Stark, I am sorry that I had to call your sister as a witness. I hope you know that I wouldn’t have done that if I had any choice."

Robb swung his case off the table and moved away. "I know that, Jon. I should have told Glover it was over and caved before you had to call her. I knew Sansa wouldn’t lie and I would never have asked her to." He glanced toward his client who was waiting, clearly seething, at the back of the courtroom. He lowered his voice as he spoke again, "Good luck on getting any money out of Glover. Don’t know if you’ve heard, but he isn’t exactly flush these days."

Jon grinned and nodded, "That will be a battle for another day, I expect."

Robb waved his hand as he proceeded out of the courtroom, "That battle won’t be mine, Snow!"

**************************

Jon was the last to leave. Tormund had offered to take Jon out to dinner at what he called the "best all you can eat buffet in town" but Jon had asked for a rain check. The euphoria of his first trial victory was dimming as he began to wonder if he still had any hope for a continued friendship with Sansa. He waved Tormund and Ygritte on their way and told an excited Gilly to go home early. He thanked Grenn for his help and told him he would spot the beers at their next bowling outing. Jon wanted nothing more than to go home, order a pizza, and curl up with a good book, his dog, and a beer.

The snow was falling hard as Jon walked past the two great direwolf statutes standing guard before the courthouse. He waved at Nan who was leaving out the Clerk’s entrance. Nan gave him a thumbs up. No surprise there: Nan would have known about his win as soon as the verdict came out of Umber’s mouth. Jon pulled up his coat collar and squinted into the flying snow. He started toward his office only to be brought up short by a figure standing at the curb. It was Sansa, bundled in a gray coat with a fur trimmed collar, her long auburn hair shining like a beacon in the dimming late afternoon light. He swallowed hard as he moved to face her.

"Sansa, look, I want to apol..."

"Don’t say you want to apologize, Jon. Don’t say anything! There is _nothing_ you can say that I am interested in hearing."

Jon grabbed her arm, desperate to stop her as she turned on her heel to leave. "Sansa, wait. Let me explain. I had no choice!"

Sansa pulled her arm from his grasp, her words clipped short. "I have heard that over and over again, Jon." She mocked him, "I had _no_ choice, Sansa. I had to make you look foolish, I had to hurt you, embarrass you." She was clearly beside herself with anger; Jon thought she had never been more beautiful.

Sansa threw up her hands in frustration. "I am tired of men who want to explain. I am tired of men who say they have no choice to act like they do. I have had way too much experience not to recognize a jerk when I see one."

She walked away slowly as Jon stood frozen in his tracks. A long moment passed and just as he began to force himself to move, Sansa turned back just once, her voice ringing clear through the cold Northern air, "I thought you were different, Jon Snow. But you’re not. You are just another bitter disappointment. I never want to see you again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I finally got this chapter finished. I am finding it a little hard to be realistic with portraying the legal world and also keeping the narrative interesting. Hopefully, this chapter didn't end up too dry.   
> For Jon, this chapter is really all about doing his duty as a lawyer even though he had to risk his relationship with Sansa. Sansa may seem too angry, but given her prior experiences, it is understandable. She will have time to think about her reaction and also Jon won't give up easily...  
> Also, Robb will become an unexpected ally for Jon with Sansa.   
> Next chapter, Jon takes his first divorce case and we learn more about Sansa's time in Kings Landing.

**Author's Note:**

> So chapter one was mostly just background and introducing some regularly appearing characters. May have been a lot to wade through but will hopefully be worth it as we proceed. Next up: Jon meets Tormund Giantsbane and takes on a case that will pit him directly against Robb Stark, junior partner at the prestigious Stark and Stark law firm. Also, there will be an encounter with Sansa but it won't be pretty.....


End file.
